Book 1: The First Year (ROTBTD Hogwarts AU) (PREQUAL)
by ohlooksheswriting
Summary: When Jack, Hiccup, Rapunzel, and Merida attend their first year at Hogwarts, they are given the chance to change their lives. In a tale filled with new discoveries, forged friendships, trials, and heartaches, they will make their choices and face what comes, thus setting the stage for the adventures that will soon come to follow. (Multifandom, No Pairings)
1. Ch 1: Jack's POV

Chapter 1:

In which Jack, a young wizarding child accompanying his uncle on his errands, finds himself in the home of a bright, lonely girl who asks to be his friend.

* * *

After Jack's little sister Emma was born, his family moved to England.

At the time it was just him, his mother, and his sister, but through various means his mother had eventually found them a place to stay.

_A nice, wizarding neighborhood._ She'd said. _Somewhere safe._

That was where Jack held most of his childhood memories. They'd settled in a place called Halley House, which was ... a flat. Of sorts. More specifically, it looked like a bunch of houses that had all been clumped together and told to stay up, and that's exactly what it had done. The structure had entire rooms and parts of buildings sticking out every which way, jutting up into the sky. It was a good thing the rest of the area was also occupied by magical inhabitants.

The flat had once been a single house and a group of families who had all gathered to stay together in one place. The group of families became more families and more rooms, which became friends and strangers who came and went as they pleased. In that place no one cared where anyone came from, as long as they were friendly with others and helped around where they could.

Jack and Emma grew up in a place filled with noise and children. The labyrinthine hallways were always occupied with voices and busy feet, with people coming and going about their business. Somebody's basement was somebody's attic. Kitchens and rooms and closets were often riddled with hidden passageways that connected to parts of the building in patterns no one could make any sense of. There was no such thing as a quiet day in, and the only places the children could call remotely private were the bedrooms in their little corner of the place, one for them and the other for their mother who shared hers with the back of the kitchen, and even that was questionable at times.

It was a place that none of them had voluntarily come to but had instead ended up in. There was no person in particular to pay rent to, no one asked questions, and anyone who was in need of a little help would always somehow get it - no matter what. They all knew that anyone who found their way through the door was there only because they had nowhere else to go.

A safe enough place as any.

In a little commercial street not too far from there, Jack and Emma's mother worked at a wizarding apothecary. In the summer they'd often while away their time downstairs, in the shop below that sold commissioned magical items. The shop was run by their uncle, Mr. Isaac Witherwell. Wiry thin, sharp eyes that sometimes glittered behind his spectacles, Uncle Witherwell himself was plenty interesting even without his shop full of curiosities.

In truth he wasn't related to any of them, just a friend of the family. But he'd always been close friends with their parents. Uncle Witherwell had known their father very well.

He was the one who'd first told Jack about him. His mysterious father, who'd once been an Auror. Jack was told he'd been a powerful wizard, a brave man. Someone who'd gone striding into danger and never returned.

Jack decided that that was enough for him. It was all in the past, and there was nothing to be done about that. Besides, he already had too many things to focus on: looking after his sister, worrying about his mother, doing his chores, the errands he'd run to make a little money whenever he could get away with it. It was not as if knowing such things would have any affect on his present.

A long while ago, his uncle had offered to tell him more about his father. Jack had politely refused him.

But sitting on the floor of the shop one day in summer, he had a feeling that if he were curious enough, he could find out for himself anyways. His uncle's shop was as mysterious a place as the man who owned it. Past the well-lit front area were the places that most customers rarely, if ever, ventured into. Jack knew that if he went into the back, far off from the viewing area and behind the stairs, there'd be stacks and stacks of dusty boxes, some of them probably having been there for decades without ever being touched.

Uncle Witherwell and his father had known each other for ages, perhaps as long as the shop had existed. There was bound to be something he'd find if he poked around long enough. If he ever dug deep enough.

"What are you thinking about?" Emma asked.

Jack started when something sharp tugged at his knee. He looked down to see one of six kittens staring back at him, her tiny jaw trying to gnaw through the cloth of his second-hand muggle jeans.

She was so tiny that Jack easily managed to wrap his hand around her midriff and return her to her playmates. "I was thinking that I don't much fancy digging."

Next to him, Emma's nose wrinkled up as she giggled. "Is this about the weeding you said you'd get done later? You know you could've just told Mrs. Burnine to lay off this week and instead helped me out with this, right? These kitties need homes." One of the kittens was lolling in her lap, while another had managed to crawl up her chest to try and snag her hair. Emma tugged it off and kissed it's nose.

"They do, but that's free work, and Mrs. Burnine promised she'd pay me an entire sickle this time if I got her garden done today."

"Mama's not going to like that."

"Mama doesn't need to know," Jack said. The look he got from Emma made him add, "yet."

The kitten from earlier took an interest in his fingers. Jack waved them over her head. He made little red sparks come out of the tips, watching as she tried to stand on her hind legs and bat at them.

Leaned against his shoulder, Jack felt more than heard Emma sigh. "I wish I could do that."

"I can only do it now 'cause my letter hasn't come yet."

"Yeah, but it's different for me." Emma's hand came into view, tickling the kitten's belly to make it tumble back. "I'm a squib, you know."

"You're six. You still have time." Before she could say anything else, Jack decided to change the subject. "Say, do you think we can take any of these home with us?"

"What do you mean 'do I think we can take one of them home'? How do you expect us to feed it?"

"Well, give it time and they'll be able to hunt for themselves, right? They could help clear out any rats." Jack picked one up and held it high over his head. "I mean, if you leave one of these in Halley House for long enough maybe it'll learn to talk and become your familiar."

"Jack, _really-_"

"What's this I hear about familiars?" Heavy footsteps sounded outside, then the door to the lounge area opened and their Uncle Witherwell walked in from the front counter. In his arms were different sized boxes stacked one on top of the other, all of them labelled. He set them down next to a beat up leather couch with a quiet 'oomph'.

Emma, ever the tattle-tale, pointed at Jack. "Jack thinks we can take one of these kitties home and teach it to talk."

"Well, it is true that long term exposure to magic will do that to most animals." Uncle Witherwell walked to where they sat on the threadbare rug and looked over her shoulder. "Although I believe there are certain procedures that must be carried out in order to make such a thing effective. That's what they do at Hogwarts, if I remember it right."

"They're also called Imaris', aren't they?" Jack chimed in.

"Correct."

"Imaris?" Emma asked, looking from their uncle to Jack.

So Jack explained. "Imaris is the name for a small - well, usually small - animal who's been exposed to magic for long enough that they gain a higher degree of sentience - as in, uh, smarts, you could say." Jack fumbled with the kitten and let it down. "They usually come from forests and have been around magic for long enough that a witch or wizard can not only communicate properly with them but also make a particular kind of deal with them, which they're free to refuse if that's what they want."

"The deal is that an Imaris can do chores in a magical household in exchange for having a place to stay, a greater exposure to concentrated magic, and later on being able to use some magic themselves. This agreement is made for mutual benefit and it ends when the pre-set conditions from both sides have been met. Most of them usually go off to live in their own communities after that. An Imaris that's completed or is close to completing their tenure is supposed to look like a short-ish, human shaped creature but with fur and ears and things, about this high." Jack held his hand up so it hovered a little over his head.

"And how is an Imaris different from a familiar?" Uncle Witherwell asked him.

"Imaris' are different from familiars in that they don't serve as a companion for one particular witch or wizard, nor do they act as a conduit for magic."

"Nicely done, Jack." Witherwell leaned down and Jack was treated to an affectionate hair ruffle. It made a few strands of brown hair float in front of his nose and he rubbed it. "You've been reading up."

"Thanks. I mean, since I'm probably going to stay in school on scholarship, I don't think I can afford not to. Just want to be useful, is all." Jack shrugged it off, but he didn't miss the way his uncle's face momentarily took on a strained edge.

It was annoying. They were poor, surrounded by people who were also more or less poor. If it were with strangers or people outside of their circle he'd understand, but he couldn't see why the adults in Jack's life treated it like it was some terrible secret. What was the point? It was just the truth, and he and Emma had been taught that there was nothing harmful about a truth as long as it was acknowledged.

But none of the adults saw it that way. Not for this, at least.

Instead of berating him, Witherwell sighed and shook his head. He turned away, going back to the boxes. "Speaking of being useful, I've just gotten some new parcels here that need to be delivered today. What's say you come along and help me out for an hour or two, Jack? If we finish up fast enough we can come back here for a late lunch."

That instantly put a grin on Jack's face. It'd been ages since he'd last been on a delivery round. "Really?" He asked.

"Absolutely. Come and help me sort these out." He glanced back at them from over his shoulder. "Oh, and Emma dear? If you wouldn't mind, could you run upstairs and tell your mother I'll be borrowing Jack for a bit?"

"But what about these guys?" She gestured to the kittens.

"We'll be right here until you come back, don't worry."

While Emma went scampering out the door, Jack got up and helped his uncle with the boxes. Together they sectioned them into groups, and then Witherwell took out his wand. Without speaking, he performed a spell that made the items shrink and fly into his messenger bag.

They were ready to go by the time Emma came down. In her hands she clutched a small, paper wrapped parcel, which she handed to Witherwell. "Mama said just in case." She told them.

"Thank you." He shrunk that as well and tucked it away into one of many pockets. "Are we ready, Jack?"

"Ready." He clutched his uncle's hand, who smiled down at him.

"Then let's go."

A crack spit the air and they were gone. The feeling was the same as he remembered it. Jack felt his insides being squeezed tight, crushing him to fit into a space of nothing as they travelled by apparition.

Next moment his feet hit solid ground and he could breathe again. They stood on a doorstep from which his uncle rang the bell, and the two of them waited under the wide awning.

In the wizarding world there were many things that could be carried by owls. But there were some items, expensive or volatile or of an otherwise delicate nature, which had to either be picked up directly by the customers or else delivered to them in person rather than being left to the fate of air travel. Almost all of the items that came into Uncle Witherwell's shop were of that type. They had been specially requested, crafted with care, and those who'd asked for them had paid much gold to get them.

Jack had been absolutely forbidden from working for Witherwell with the other postal workers and part-timers, the adults saying that he was still too young for it. But on rare occasions, usually during the summer, his uncle would allow him to tag along with him as he went on his rounds. And if he was lucky he'd even be allowed to help with the setting up.

As predicted, it took them well over an hour to get through most of them. Jack had eventually begged one of the sandwiches off of his uncle and he was still famished.

They finally came to the last place, a kind of dilapidated mansion from the look of it. A note had been stuck to the door, telling them to let themselves in. Witherwell spelled it open and Jack followed him past the threshold.

He didn't notice a small creature slip onto his shoulder.

The inside of the place was cramped and shadowy, full of dust and cobwebbed corners. The air smelled like it wasn't used to people breathing in it.

"Are you sure we've got the right place?" Jack asked.

Witherwell unfurled the parchment and held it out for Jack to see. "We do. This is the last one on the list, and according to the instructions it's supposed to be set up in the back room. Tell you what - how about I do that and this time you can wait out here? I'll be with you in no time and then we can go. How's that?"

"I might be able to deal with that ..." Jack said, looking around. The place was strange and disturbing, but maybe he could explore a little.

"There we go." Witherwell patted his shoulder. "I'll be right down the hall. If you need anything, just holler."

Jack watched as he walked away. When he was out of sight, he faced the rest of the room. Or really, it looked to be more of a supply space than anything that had the right to call itself a room. He'd seen his uncle's shop look more organised than this and that place was a perpetual mess. A mess that had the decency to contain itself in boxes, at least. Not like here, with the mismatching couches and seats with holes in them, the litter and crumpled parchment on the floor, the mountain of debris in the middle of the room, the girl in the ceiling-

Wait.

A girl.

A girl in the ceiling.

Jack stared up at what was probably, most likely, an upside down girl's head sticking out of the ceiling. He stared into a set of ridiculously wide, owlish eyes. Said eyes stared back.

Then they blinked and the girl's entire face broke out into a toothy smile.

"Hi!" She chirped, her voice light and squeaky. She immediately sneezed and Jack jumped. "Ooph, it's dusty in here! How long has it been since someone was in here? Oh, be careful of the dust! You might want to close your mouth."

Jack's previously hanging mouth clicked shut. Then he remembered where he was and opened it again. "Who are you?"

"Mother said I can't tell that. Who are you?" She asked.

"I can't tell you either."

"Oh. That makes sense." The girl frowned for a moment. Then her eyes caught onto something near him and she smiled wide. "Hi Pascal! There you are!"

"Who-?" A tickle next to his ear made Jack turn his head. Huge, bulging eyes stared an inch from his face. A tiny pink tongue darted out and touched his nose.

Jack did what any sane, almost 11-year old would've done. He shrieked and fell over.

From another room, his uncle's voice drifted out. "Everything alright over there?"

"Fine! I'm fine!" Jack called. He sat up and rounded on the girl. "What do you want?"

"To play. If you want to, that is." By then the little green creature - Pascal - had scuttled away and climbed up the debris mountain. It jumped up onto the hand the girl held out for it. "And if you come upstairs with me, I'll tell you my name."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Even from upside down, Jack was pretty sure she'd raised two dainty eyebrows at him. "Do you have anything else to do?"

Good question. Jack weighed his options. He could tell her no and she'd (probably) leave him alone. Or he could go up with her and see what he found. There was also the option of running to his uncle and telling him everything, but he figured by the time he got back the girl would've disappeared and Jack would've been re-branded as some kind of coward. And Jack was no coward.

His stomach chose that moment to make itself known.

"I have food upstairs." The girl said. "I made it myself. Mother said I shouldn't take food from strangers but she didn't say anything about giving food to one. Especially if the person I gave food to was a friend." As if it was an afterthought, she added. "I made chocolate chip biscuits today."

That settled it. Poisoned food or no, Jack was hungry. If he died, he died.

Jack got to his feet and ran to the hallway."Uncle Witherwell! I'm gonna explore a bit!" He yelled. Then he came back, impatient. "Okay. How do I get up?"

The girl disappeared. Seconds later a thick braid of yellow rope dropped out from of the previously vacated hole in the ceiling. "Grab on!"

The rope was just long enough to flop partially down one side of the stack of junk. Jack manoeuvred his feet over them until he grasped the rope and looped it around his wrists. The fact that the rope was one of the smoothest he could ever remember holding was a detail he brushed aside.

"Did you grab it?"

"Yeah, pull me up!"

The rope gave a fierce tug, then another. And before Jack knew it he was dangling in the air and being propelled towards the ceiling in tiny jerks. When he could just reach the lip of the hole, two slender hands came through and he grabbed hold of them.

"Careful - duck your head now, elbows in. Please don't get stuck."

Jack's other hand found its way through the ceiling and he used it to help pull himself up, his feet kicking behind him. A shaft of light momentarily blinded him. He blinked at the spots while the girl dragged him the rest of the way up.

"Phew! That was fun! Not bad. Are you okay?" He heard her ask. Her voice came from very close by.

"Fine." Jack rubbed his eyes. Tiny feet landed on his back and climbed up into his hair, but he didn't pay attention to that.

He couldn't pay attention to that. Not when his eyes adjusted and he looked around properly. He was in a circular place with a wooden floor. Fractured light scattered through the dusty air, giving a feeling similar to being in a staircase going up a cathedral tower.

Except where the walls would've been made of wood, these were made of glass.

Glass that was opaque, glass that sparkled, stained glass painted with murals. But more than that, what glass was clear did not show the surrounding area that Jack had seen when he'd come in, but instead glimpses of scenes that looked to be from far off places.

But most of all there was golden hair everywhere. Not blonde, golden hair, braided into the same thick rope that Jack still held in limp hands and scattered in loops all along the floor. And all of it came from the head of the girl who crouched next to him.

"Whoa ..." Jack stared around with wide eyes.

The girl, head tilted to the side curiously, looked to where he looked. "Oh! Are you looking at the windows? They're nice, aren't they? You can see more of them from the top."

"From the top?"

"Yes." She pointed above. About two stories above them was what on first look seemed to be a rough wooden ceiling, until one noticed that the edges of it did not touch the walls but instead connected with it through numerous rectangular wooden spokes. These spokes ran under it to meet up in the centre, basically supporting the wood above like it was a platform over support beams.

In one of the pie-shaped slices of wood was a hole that let through a square of light from above and a homemade cloth ladder.

The girl pulled him up and started herding him to it. "To be honest, I'm not supposed to know about this place, I'm just supposed to stay up above. I found that place over there - you see that? The place where the light's coming in?- a few months ago, and I made the ladder myself so I could get down. I haven't ever been the rest of the way down because it looks dusty and full of future splinters. But no one's ever come over to that place before, and Mother always comes from the above side." They came to the ladder and she gave it to him. "Here, you first."

Jack gripped the ladder and climbed up. It shook something fierce under his weight, but the knots were good and it held. He reached the square in the ceiling - a kind of improvised trap door, he found - and climbed up. It turned out he'd been right; the ceiling really was more of a platform. At the edge of the make-shift floor a wooden railing had been set up. Here the space felt somehow bigger, the circular walls going higher, letting in even more light. In the centre there stood a proper, wooden ladder that connected through a wider hole above, this ceiling being made of a complex mesh of wood, glass, and what Jack guessed were mirrors, with a layer of plaster at the very top.

But the ceiling, the ladder, none of that was what Jack noticed first. No, his eyes were focused on the walls. The walls. They were breathtaking.

In this space, he had a much better view of the glass murals. They were beautiful things, depicting what looked like scenes from stories, about princes and princesses, dragons and angels and mythical creatures unheard of - they glittered in the painted glass, so vibrant and lovely that one was scared to reach out and touch.

When Jack looked through the clear panes of glass, the ones that carried no paintings, he found himself seeing places in the world that he could never dream of visiting in his life. Mountain tops that looked out at an unknown ocean, snowy fields sparkling in the sun, forests as vast and old as time - it was all there. And the more he looked the more he realised that every few moments they changed, melting from one to another.

_Like looking through a scraying glass._ Jack thought. _A world in the wall._

Behind him the girl spoke. "Mother made this for me. She said I can't go out and see the world yet, it's too dangerous, but she promised me she'd let me see some of it from here and she kept that promise. When she first made this for me, I'd spend hours and hours here, just staring out into the world."

Jack finally, finally, ripped his eyes away. Behind him, the cloth ladder lay in a neat roll next to the girl and she was busy pulling her hair through. The last of the hair came up, and then she was up and bounding over to him, taking his hands in hers. With force that surprised him, she spun them both around so that Jack was turned towards the centre. The girl let go and skipped away. At one end of the platform, the mirrors in the ceiling converged the beams to create a circle of light that shined down, soft and buttery, on a slightly raised platform. The window closest to it showed the view of a grassy meadow from above. The girl hopped up onto the platform and did a neat pirouette, her rope of hair flaring out in her wake.

"This is my sunspot. I come here at sunrise, noon, and sunset, every day. It's one of my favourite places."

Jack stared at her. The girl smiled back.

"Who _are_ you?" He asked, finally. This was the strangest day he'd had in a long time, and he hadn't even eaten lunch yet.

The girl tilted her head to the side. "I don't know, are you my friend?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to give me biscuits?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess I am." He walked over and stuck his hand out. "My name's Jack. Jack Overland."

"I'm Rapunzel. It's nice to meet you." She shook his hand. Her grin was infectious, and Jack found himself smiling with her.

"It's ... it's a beautiful place. All of this." It was the first thing he could think to say since climbing up. It felt cheap, coming from his mouth.

"Indeed. It's the most beautiful room in this building, if you ask me. I'm sorry to say the rest of my home isn't anywhere near as impressive as this."

"It's where you live. It can't be that bad." Jack shrugged, even as Rapunzel giggled.

"I'm glad you think so. Come on, let's go."

Together they climbed the rest of the way up. The place Jack found himself in next was much more of a proper living area. Just like below it was circular, a brightly lit place. It was divided into a central area with other areas sectioned off for cooking and lounging and such surrounding it. The floor was clean and shiny, there were furniture and rugs, and the air was fresh from the open windows. Stairs went up the sides of the room, and far above the ceiling was made of rafters. Potted plants were everywhere, so many of them, and when Jack looked around he saw that these walls were painted as well. Paintings in bright colours over what had once been cream walls. But where the ones below had been beautiful and awe inspiring, these paintings were more whimsical, more childish. Swirling lines and wide, rounded curves made them fanciful and girlish and achingly cheerful.

It was at that moment he became painfully aware of the fact that he was in a young girl's living space.

He felt Rapunzel walk up to him and nudge his shoulder. "I painted those myself. What do you think?"

Jack stared at the wall. His eyes slid over to her. "... How long have they been up?" He asked.

Rapunzel gave the wall a considering look, putting two fingers to her chin. "Oh, about two months or so. I think I'll have to paint over them soon."

Jack hummed. "Ran out of paper, did you?"

"When I was six." She stated primly, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

And what eyes they were. A bright and brilliant green, wide and expressive. Every time she talked they projected her emotions. Paired with the blonde hair and Jack believed Emma would've loved her. Both he and his sister shared the same features - brown hair, brown eyes; nothing fancy. Rapunzel looked like everything Emma would consider a real life princess, a true "sparkling beauty" (he teased her about that sometimes. His little sister was already pretty enough, thank you). She came built with a personality to match; empathetic and friendly and more than willing to talk and keep the conversation going.

Which she did; she seemed to have an inbuilt surplus of conversation topics. Rapunzel chatted enough for both of them as she showed him around, tugging him by the hand. It was like she'd been waiting her entire life just to have someone to share her thoughts with (well, almost. He thought he spotted a tiny flash of green on her shoulder). For once in his young life, all Jack could do was follow. He couldn't find it in himself to mind.

It wasn't until they were sitting down with a plate piled high with biscuits between them that he learnt she had plenty of questions as well. She was fascinated by every little thing he said, at one point telling him he was the first ever 'boy' she'd talked to.

That raised a lot of questions in Jack. The kind that would take longer than a single afternoon to answer. But smaller, probing questions from him, carefully scattered into the idle chatter, led to the best discovery he'd made that day: Rapunzel was a magical child just like him and that year she'd be going to Hogwarts as well.

"That's great news! I'm going too!" Jack said.

"Really?!" Rapunzel took his hands, bouncing in her seat so hard she made their arms shake. "We get to go together! I get to go to a school with you and we'll be friends there - I've never _been_ to a school! Oh, this is fun!"

"Wait, you've never been? Really?"

Rapunzel shook her head. "Never. I did all my learning here. This is the first time I will be going out of this place. Mother is out buying school supplies for me today."

"But ... didn't you say that your mother doesn't want you going outside?"

Rapunzel's smile softened and she pulled her hair aside. On her neck there was what appeared to be a small, purple tattoo of some sort. It looked like a tiny, filled circle, with a bigger circle surrounding it and a thin line speared through both of them. "She gave me this. It's a spell that will let her know where I am at all times. That way if I'm ever in danger, Mother said she would know and she'd come and save me." She let her hair fall back. "She also said that my powers will continue to grow stronger from here. If I'm not properly trained then I'd likely hurt one of us with it. I need to learn so that I can control it better."

Jack tried not to frown too hard. Hearing her words had made him remember something.

In a store near his mother's there had been a boy much younger than him. His father had been a big, proud man, often saying he worked somewhere in the ministry. Someone who'd overall been jovial in spirits and loud in his words. But Jack remembered, whenever he chanced to look at him properly, the man's eyes had seemed oddly cold. He remembered when he and Emma would sometimes play with the boy, how the boy would talk when it came to his father. It was never anything bad; in fact, he usually sounded happy when he spoke of the man.

And yet ... it reminded him a little of how Rapunzel talked about her mother.

It had been a few years since then. The boy and his father had moved. But Jack still remembered. He remembered how his mother's face would sometimes pinch in the rare times he'd seen them talking. Be good with him, dear. She would say. Don't do anything reckless now, Jack, you hear me?

"-Jack? Is everything alright?" Rapunzel asked, her brows scrunched. How long had he been spaced out?

Jack shook his head of those thoughts. "Rapunzagel- bleh, that's a mouthful." Jack stuck his tongue out. His heart lightened at seeing a quick smile from her. "Don't you have any nicknames?"

Rapunzel shrugged. "When I was younger, Mother would sometimes call me Flower."

"Yeah, but me calling you that sounds weird. Okay, let's see." Jack clapped his hands together, bringing the tips of them to brush under his chin. "Rapunzel. Rapunz ... Punz- no, that sounds like 'puns'. Ew. Okay then, Zel ... El ... El-lee. Ellie. Ellie! I can call you Ellie, how's that?"

Rapunzel pursed her lips, expression contemplative. "Hm. Ellie. Ellie. Ellie, Ellie, Ellie ..." She said, testing the word in different tones.

Jack leaned in and grinned. "Cinder-ellie." Rapunzel clapped her hands over her mouth and giggled. Somehow, they both knew that one.

"Ellie ... I like it." She finally said, her giggles subsided.

"I think it suits you. It reminded me of something else, uh ... I don't remember." Jack scratched his neck. "Maybe I'll think of it later."

"Is it another muggle reference?" Rapunzel asked.

"Maybe, I'm not sure."

"How many do you know?"

"Oh, lots." Jack said. "Some of the kids who live in the place I do used to have muggle parents. Or they have squib parents. They often have things with them, like books and toys and the like, that they bring over sometimes when we play together, to show it to the rest of us. I'm pretty sure Emma's already learnt half of the songs they sing with us too."

Rapunzel sighed, a wistful smile on her face. "I wish I could do that. Being with other people. That sounds so fun."

"It's noisy, is what it is." Jack laughed, shaking his head. "I guarantee you'll get to see plenty of that when you reach Hogwarts."

"I will, won't I? I can't wait. I want to be around people. I want to see more of them. I want to talk to all of them." Rapunzel hopped up and did a little spin. "I want to read more books. I want to hear more stories. I want to learn lots and lots of things. I want my head filled up with so many new things it bursts! Like this!" Rapunzel made an exploding motion, nearly clocking Jack in the face.

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled. She pulled right back. Her other hand gripped the one she held and she yanked him right out of his chair. Jack grinned and the two of them went into an impromptu, clumsy dance.

"You're gonna have to tell me when you think it's about to happen. I want to see it." Jack's arms went taught as Rapunzel leaned back. Then it hung loose as she suddenly came close.

"See me explode?" She was taller than him by a hair, Jack noticed. On her nose he counted exactly four freckles. Then she made him spin.

"Sure, why not? Then I can patch you up again. They're going to teach us how to do that, I bet."

"In our first year?"

"Not the first year. Probably-" Jack stumbled a bit. Rapunzel caught him, and once again Jack was reminded of how oddly strong those thin arms of hers were. "But that doesn't mean we can't try to learn some things on our own. Well, as long as we don't do anything stupid or get into an accident."

"Like ... making our heads explode?"

There was a beat of silence. Then they made the mistake of looking at each other.

Next thing they knew both of them were doubled over laughing. It was silly, and lame. It was worse than lame. But still it made them laugh until they were reduced to giggling.

Jack was out of breath, less from the exercise and more from the giggles still coming out of him like soap bubbles. "We should ... the next time we're together, I think ... I think I should bring some games along. That'll be fun. Maybe some wizarding games."

"Like what? Pfft, haha." Rapunzel was still bent over, hands braced on her knees. She took the hand Jack held out to her and let him pull her up, leaning heavy against his side.

"There's lots of them." Jack said. "There're some real popular ones out now, too - not that I can buy any of them. But you can see them in the shops, in the windows. If we ever have enough money and we go there together, we might be able to get one of those games- ah, Zelda. That's it. That's what I was thinking of."

"Zelda? What's that?"

"It's another nickname for you. I could call you Zelda."

Now it was Rapunzel who raised her eyebrow. "I'm going to assume this Zelda's a person?"

"She is. She's character in a muggle game and-"

"JACK!" A voice came from outside. It was Witherwell. "Jack! Where are you?!"

With careful hands, Jack made sure she was standing on her own. Then he shot off to a nearby window, closest to where the voice had come from.

"UP HERE." He hollered, sticking himself so far out that nearly half of his body was left dangling in the breeze.

Out near the front steps his uncle stood, a tiny speck in the grass. "How'd you get up there?! Get DOWN!" Both his hands were cupped in front of his face.

"I'LL BE DOWN! HANG ON!"

Quick as he'd gone to the window, he ran back to Rapunzel. Right before he crashed into her, he jerked to a stop and grabbed hold of her hands. "It was real fun talking to you. I have to go now!"

Instead of squeezing his hands or shaking them like he'd thought, Rapunzel surprised him again. She pulled him in for a hug, quick and tight. "Okay! Bye!"

Jack stood there a moment. Next thing he knew Rapunzel had darted off and come back with a bulging fistful of biscuits. She pushed them into his hands. "That's for Emma."

"Okay. Okay, thank you!" Jack unceremoniously shoved them into a pocket and ran back to the window. "I'll see you again soon, Ellie!" He threw over his shoulder.

"I'll see you too!"

Without stopping or slowing down, Jack jumped out the window.

As it had done so many times in his childhood, Jack felt the magic rush through him. His speed slowed mid-air. Instead of crashing to the ground, he gently floated into his uncle's outstretched arms, light as a feather pillow.

"Jack! How many times have I told you not to do that?!" Witherwell scolded, tone harsh and filled with the resignation of long use.

Jack merely looped his arms around his uncle's neck, hugging him tight and smushing his face into his shoulder. He knew his "cute face" had long since stopped working on his uncle.

"But it's fun!" He said, heart still hammering in his chest and blood still sparking with magic.

"And dangerous! And days from now you're going to get your letter!" In spite of his words, Witherwell hugged him back. Then he let him get down.

"So I'll stop doing it when it gets here. And you can still catch me."

"Jack!"

But Jack had already spun around to face the building. His eyes searched until he spotted the window, until he saw her.

Both of his arms went up. From that distance, he knew his voice wouldn't reach her, so he waved at her. A moment later he saw her wave back.

Behind him he heard his uncle mutter, "... reckless boy." Jack ignored it; he was too happy to care. Turning back to Witherwell, he took his uncle's hand and beamed up at him.

"Are you done here?" He asked.

"... Yes. Who was that?" They began to walk away.

Jack turned his head to look back, but by then he could barely make out where the window should've been. Still, the happy feeling remained, as did the weight of the semi-crumpled biscuits in his pocket.

"A new friend." He said. "I'm going to see her again in Hogwarts." Above him, the sky was a clear blue, the sun blinding and warm on his hair. A good omen.

This was going to be a good year. He just knew it.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hello dear readers! Thank you all very much for picking up this story.**

**I must now inform you that I am still in the middle of doing a lot of planning for this massive undertaking and until I have a better idea of where I'm going with it (and until my exams are done) there will not be any consistent updates for this story until around early/mid 2020. ****And depending on the exams I'll have to take later ... even that might be subject to change. *cries***

**But, like the impulsive fool I am, I still wished to give this idea that's been cooking too long to the world. I've done a lot of editing and proof-readings for the next chapter on multiple platforms and I think by now it's just about as good as I can make it without me descending into perfectionism hell.**

**(In other words, please take this humble offering from my hands before I shred it to pieces with my nit-picking.)**

**(And if you are concerned about this being abandoned or some such, I've had this fanfiction nesting in my head for a long, long time. I've waited this long to write it, this many years honing and grappling with and improving my writing skills. There is no way I'm going to leave this, not unless I somehow end up in the hospital where I can no longer use my hands or eyes or brain or a decent internet connection. Pinky promise.)**

**As the title says, this is going to be a book series. But for this series to go where I've planned for it to go (and believe me I have a lot of plans in store) there needs to be some ... setting up.**

**That's where this book comes in. It's going to be about this "setting up", where our favourite characters are still very, very young and new to all that they will soon face. This is where they get to form their perspectives and get a better handle on where they fit into Hogwarts. There aren't going to be any major adventures in this book (yet). No major battles or conflicts are set to occur here (yet).**

**No, this book isn't going to be about the exciting stuff. It's all about the _foreshadowing._**

**Like, there are going to be _so many_ Easter eggs in here, people; by the end of this I want to make Mr. Easter Bunny jealous of me. There are going to be things in here that will be hinting towards events that're set to occur all the way in book 5, and then cross reference and backtrack into other books so that it all forms an entire complex web of foreshadowing galore.**

**Speaking of which, I'm planning on doing that foreshadowing and cross-referencing thing with all the books in this series. Brace yourself, this is gonna be a wild ride.**

_**Disclaimer: ****All of the borrowed characters, Hiccup, Rapunzel, Merida, Jack, other Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, Sony, etc. characters, belong to their respective franchises. The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Any and all other things mentioned in the story are from the author's own imaginings and cannot be plagiarized or distributed, for profit or otherwise, under any circumstances. Any resemblance elements of the story hold to real life people, places, businesses, etc. are purely coincidental. All rights reserved.**_


	2. Ch 2: Hiccup's POV

Chapter 2:

While Hiccup is searching for answers, he overhears a conversation not meant for his ears. He finally learns why his family came to England.

* * *

In a wide expanse of hallway located in the west wing of an old mansion in Surrey, there was a blob of shadow sneaking where it shouldn't have been.

That blob was, in fact, a ten-year old boy named Hiccup.

Hiccup and his family were vikings. They came from a remote little island that was colder, rockier, and far, far stranger than what most of the world had heard of.

From the scraggly hills to the dense forests, from the highest, sharpest peaks to the shallow basin in the heart of the island, every grain of it was set in the blood and the magic of those who lived on it. The crisp, metallic tint of the air, the ice storms that came year round, and the raging oceans that battered the cliffs and surrounded and shaped the land and its people - that was their home, and in spite of experiences that would speak otherwise, it was the only place that Hiccup could think of where he truly belonged. It was where his family had been for generations before his and where they were likely to remain for generations to come.

It was because of this that Hiccup was absolutely baffled as to why his father had told him to pack up his things a few days before and then carted them all the way across the oceans to where they were now.

No prior warning. No explanations given. Just a gruff, "Hiccup, we're leaving," and then they were gone by sundown. It had been nearly a week and he hadn't seen his father since.

It wasn't even that Hiccup disliked going on a trip. Up until then the most his adventures had consisted of were sneaking off to spend time at a library in the nearby muggle town, visiting his father's friend Gobber in the village forge, and generally trying to avoid getting beaten up by other viking children.

The problem here was that_ those viking children had tagged along with them_. By the time Hiccup had had his things packed and ready those children and their families had showed up and, group by group, they'd all magically teleported to England to be greeted first thing by a raging downpour. A full hour of cussing, shouting, and general chaos had landed them in this damp, musty building, with Hiccup being dropped off in his new room and essentially forgotten about ever since.

That was going to change today. Today was the day Hiccup decided that he'd get some answers.

Just as soon as he figured out where he needed to go.

A lump in one of the pockets of his trousers shifted, uncurling and stretching in its hiding place. It slipped out and under the folds of the bulky sweater he wore and climbed up his tunic. Hiccup felt it hoist itself onto his shoulder before he heard a soft chitter in his ear.

Slow and careful, Hiccup turned his head. Murky, brown-green eyes stared up at him, same as his own.

"Shhhhh." He hissed. He didn't dare risk making a sound any louder than that.

The little "gecko" he'd named Nessi had no such qualms. She answered him with a tiny chirrup and rubbed her neck against his, spreading a thin layer of the residue from her scent glands onto his skin.

_Happy to be awake, aren't you?_ Hiccup thought. She always did like to sleep in late, or until it was time for a meal.

That meant he'd already spent too long wandering around.

Tugging the shadows tighter around himself, Hiccup closed his eyes and exhaled. With his eyes open he would be able to see the same things that anyone else would see: a long, square-ish hallway with beaten-down, deeply coloured carpeting and unadorned walls made of dark wood panels. But with his eyes closed Hiccup could paint a different picture. One that only he could see.

Outside it was raining. It created a neat cushion of white noise that shielded and kept in the sounds that came from the building itself - and there were many.

The floors and walls breathed in the moisture that saturated the air. Different rooms and different sections of the building all had their own sounds, their own voices. In the opposite direction of where Hiccup was headed there came the distant clamours and wandering feet of the families who'd come with them trying to reorient their lives to the strange new setting they found themselves in. Deep within the mansion he heard the soft murmurs of the house staff, muffled and folded into the walls like the gentle ticks of a well-oiled machine.

Hiccup could not just hear all of it, he could see it too. In his mind's eye the sounds came to him like the inverted colours of a developing photograph. With what he heard, he could make a rough map in his head of which section of the mansion he was in and even where certain people were with respect to him.

This ability of his was just one of many little things that Hiccup had taught himself to do with magic. He didn't know how he did it. He just knew that he could.

At that moment there was one sound that Hiccup was trying to find. One _voice_, something Hiccup had been hearing from a time beyond conscious memory. Such things as that were always the easiest to pick out; the more familiar he was with a sound, the easier he could find it when he needed to.

He found it then. The low timber of it caught against the edges of his mind and he wrapped a mental fist around it.

Hiccup opened his eyes without seeing and followed the voice, one hand stretched out and brushing along the wall. The carpet muffled his footsteps and the shadows that clung to him did the rest.

Not even the rats that scuttled behind the walls noticed him, nor did they smell Nessi still perched on his shoulder.

It was when he turned the corner of the final hallway that Hiccup came to his senses.

His magic had picked up only his father's voice. But this close to the source, his ears picked up another. An unfamiliar voice with an unfamiliar accent.

Hiccup frowned. That couldn't be right. If something made a noise then he should've been able to sense it. He'd tested this trick out for weeks and that had always proved to be the case. Up until then, that is.

Curious and mildly unsettled, Hiccup edged closer to the door where the voices came from. He hoped with all his heart that Nessi would take the hint and keep her tiny mouth shut.

The mysterious voice was going on about something, he didn't know what. He - and it was definitely a _he_ \- spoke loud and confident, either unaware or unconcerned with any passer-byes listening in.

Then his father's voice cut through. "Enough. It is of no concern to me the history of the institution you speak of. I do not need you to tell me what kind of virtues the English hold up to, for I know that you have none."

"Now, now, don't speak so harshly Mr. Haddock! Why, this very institution is where you'll be sending your own child to, after all." The other voice chuckled. It had an odd, oily edge to it. The kind that would've fit into a black and white western movie and come built with a bowler hat, moustache, and cigar. Hiccup got a sudden mental image of that kind of man, probably short and stocky too, faced up against his mountain of a father and having a conversation with him.

"Coming from your mouth, my _child_ whom you speak of sounds more like a product than a living being. I do not need a product, Mister On-"

"Ehem."

"... very well. Mr. _Walters_, whatever else comes of this, I do not care for my boy being made into some sort of puppet, or for the such a fate to befall the other children that have been brought here by their families. Neither I nor my people have any use for those who have been made spineless and docile. By the end of this, Havárđr needs to be a leader."

Hiccup started at hearing his birth name. It was a wonder the floor didn't creak under him.

It was strange enough hearing his father speak like how he was, all formal and refined. Where had he learnt to do that? How long had he been able to? Hiccup had never heard him speak like that, not with him or anyone in their village.

He hadn't heard that name in almost a year, not since his tenth birthday when he had been given his grandfather's second name, Hiccup Horrendous.

The second name was the name his grandfather had earned the right to bear for himself. And as his grandchild it was his honour to be given that name, as was the dagger that Hiccup had been presented with that day.

Well made weapons were not things that were given away lightly. And now Hiccup was beginning to have an inkling as to why his father had given it to him for his birthday, even when he knew that his son did not care for such things.

Regardless of what his father said, the other voice continued, smooth and unperturbed. "And a leader he shall be. Hogwarts is a school that has produced many great witches and wizards who have done outstanding things in the world. Many of them have even served as Ministers of this country. You can ask anyone - in fact, I _insist_ it - and they will say that Hogwarts is as well reputed a school as you could ever hope to find."

"Now if only this school of yours could teach my son to be a strong viking." His father sighed. "Havárđr has the makings of it in him, I'm sure he does, but he just does not seem to care to try and use it. He does not favour battle magic, did not even lift a weapon until one was placed in his hands, and he refuses to learn how. He hardly ever talks to the people of our village, his _own_ people, be they his age or no, unless duty forces his hand. Instead he goes running off to who-knows-where and not having a care towards helping others. How will he gain the respect of his people in the years to come? How will he gain their trust? What does he think to accomplish when he spends his days indoors or wandering the hills like one of the sheep?"

If Hiccup could have run right then he would've. As it was, his feet were rooted to where he stood, the edges of his vision blurring and the world feeling strange.

What a odd feeling, this loose, disconnected thing. It was like being a spectator and watching a building collapse. Blow for blow, the rubble kept coming, kept shattering against the ground. There was too much of it, there was no way to stop it. Even as the screams travelled through the air. Even as it all continued to fall apart. There was nothing to be done but to watch.

But then, the building had been built on a crumbling foundation, the news channels would say the next day. Sooner or later it was bound to collapse. A pity those people hadn't heeded the warnings. A pity they hadn't vacated the building before it came to that. Such a pity.

After a beat, the voice behind the door went on as calm as if there wasn't somebody on the other side having his world torn apart. "Hm. Well, I'm sure how your kid turns out will ultimately be up to him. The school will teach him what all magical children should know by the time they're adults and I'm sure both of you can decide where it goes from there. At least with this, you and the families you brought will have the benefit of having children who studied and graduated from an English school - and a good one, too. _That,_ surely, is bound to prove well for all of you, is it not?"

There was a long silence after this. It certainly felt long. Hiccup idly wondered if, had kept his trick going, maybe he could've "looked" into the room. He could've seen where the two adults were. Perhaps they were sitting in armchairs next to the fireplace. Or they were at the big, heavy desk that rested before an expansive window that had its curtains drawn to keep out the chill. Perhaps they were instead standing, facing each other and not daring to turn away, as if they were both in a dual. Was that why the silence felt so heavy, he wondered. Or was it just him?

A sound like a tea cup clinking against a table broke the still air. A floor board creaked as someone's weight shifted.

"... Mister Walters, we are neither of us fools. I know as well as you do that this serves a purpose for you as well. It is why- ... it is the only reason, I am sure, why you have lent us your aid."

His father's deep voice had gone deeper, almost gravelly at this point. It contrasted against the other who laughed, quick and light, as if this was a perfectly pleasant conversation and he had all the time in the world for it.

"But _of course_ it does. At this point it's a given, surely, as it is with all my dealings with you. And as always this too serves for mutual benefit."

"Indeed. And you will do well to remember that it is not in good practice to hide vital information from your business partners."

There came a rustle of papers and the dull tap of a multitude of small somethings hitting a wooden surface. "Everything I intend is everything you see on this paper here, Mr. Haddock. And if you're still concerned, I will state once again that my involvement in your child's affairs starts and ends with my recommending Hogwarts to you. See, think of it this way -" more papers rustling, "- you sending your kin to study in England will bring more recognition to you, and as such more recognition and prestige to your people. It will also promote stronger ties between you and the English wizarding world, which will make my dealings with you far easier and thus bring more profit to us both. Now, isn't that something to look forward to?"

"... very well. If that is all it is, then so it shall be. Shall we go over the other matters at hand?"

"Gladly. Now, as I was saying last week ..."

They began talking of business related things, things to do with land and properties and money transactions and such. Hiccup felt it buzz past his head like the useless noise it was.

One rooted foot detached from where it stood. Then the other. Without a glance back Hiccup walked to his room, quiet and careful, as he had always been.

Through the hallways, up a flight of stairs, a right turn here to bypass the wing housing the others, down another hallway lined with windows, all the way to the very last room at the end. Turn the bronze handle, shut and lock the door.

Hiccup stood with his back leaned against the door. The shadows he'd brought with him detached from his body and returned to the corners of the room, settling in like the damp that permeated everything. Opposite the canopy bed that was too big and downy to be comfortable were two windows in his room that looked out to a drenched, overgrown garden. It cast the room in cold and muted light. The only hint of colour in the room came from a tray on the bedside desk, upon which there lay a half-eaten assortment of fruits - red, orange, and pale green. An unheard of rarity in the north.

Something about that made the feeling return to Hiccup's body. He realised that his hands were shaking and felt just how tired he was. His knees buckled then, his body sliding down until he sat on the floor. The sudden movement made Nessi dig her claws into his sweater and release an alarmed chitter. Then when he stopped she crawled up and started licking at his chin and face, clicking and squeaking to get his attention, but he didn't notice.

His father's words replayed in his head. Even with his eyes shut and hands pressed flat to his ears the words came through in perfect, wretched clarity, each one striking like a hammer to his skull.

_... has the makings of it in him ... he just does not to care to try and use it ... he refuses to learn ... goes running off to who-knows-where and not having a care towards helping others ... What does he think to accomplish when he spends his days indoors or wandering the hills like one of the sheep?_

He wasn't a viking. He was a failure.

That was why they'd come there. Because his father thought this place might _fix_ him. Because at home he was next to useless. That's why he couldn't stay there.

That's why they'd had to take him away.

The worst thing was that he had wanted to help. He'd always wanted to help. He'd come up with all these plans to do it. He'd read through so many books, drawn pages and pages of diagrams, asked their blacksmith about it whenever he visited. He'd been thinking of making something, maybe a crossbow, that he could use. It would've taken him a few months of gathering materials and trial and error, but once he'd built it he would've shown it to his father and maybe his father would've been impressed. With just a little more time Hiccup had thought he would've been able to show everyone what he could do, what he was capable of.

Surely he could've done something. Surely it would've been enough.

_What can you do? What can you do? You're so small and weak. What can you do?_

Hiccup pressed his face into his knees, jaw clamped down against the sob caught in his throat. His arms wrapped tight around his legs, hands fisted in the sweater sleeves, desperately, _desperately_, trying to keep the jagged pieces inside of him held together.

It didn't work.

* * *

**A/N:**

***inhale* ... where do I start with this one**

**Because not to play favourites, but Hiccup is my favourite - and this was long before there was ever such a thing as movie #2 (I ... have a lot of feelings about that. And the fandom's change in attitude towards him after it came out, _especially_ regarding this AU. Maybe someday I'll go on a rant about it.) Ever since I read the books and then saw the movie little me has held a lot of respect for Hiccup and made a special place for him in my heart. At this point he is basically my child, my son, My Boi (TM)**

**I have a lot of plans for Hiccup in this series. I'm in so deep I've even made a playlist for him and everything (which I'll share at the start of Book 4). No matter what, I will strive to fully utilise him as the integral and vital character that he is. I want to respect and honour his presence in my story by giving his character all the development it deserves.**

**In this series ya girl plans to Treat Him Right**


	3. Ch 3: Jack's POV

Chapter 3:

In which Jack goes shopping for his school supplies on one of the most famous magical streets. (No, not the one you're thinking of)

* * *

**A/N:**

**This chapter and the next one (which should be out soon) go far more into exploring the world that I've set up for you readers. There are gonna be hints of lore that will be explained in further detail either later on in this book or in another one. With the way I've introduced these little details - and there are a lot - I'm have no doubt it will probably leave you with more questions than answers but I ask that you all be patient; the answers to these questions and more will be revealed when they become the most relevant, I promise.**

**This is also where I start introducing character cameos from the movies mentioned in the fandom tags for this fic as well as original characters so look forward to that.**

**Tbh during plotting I'd created this little roaster of original characters and their bios to fill in some of the empty spaces and now it just ... keeps growing.**

**And growing.**

**... Idk fam at this point I've lost control of the steering wheel so I guess this ride's just gonna go wherever it wants to go now .-.**

**A few points before we get into it:**

**\- You know those streets that are seen in Tangled during that kingdom dance thing? Imagine that the street described in these chapters looks something similar to that.**

**\- From what I got in the books not much was described about wizard/witch's day-to-day clothing and fashion except "robes" so I had no choice but to improvise a bit.**

**\- Once again, a reminder that this chapter is well over 10k words, so make sure to find a solid chunk of free time and someplace to sit before you dig in.**

**Also I think I more or less sprinted through writing and editing this so apologies in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors.**

**(within 3 books from now I just know that I'm gonna have to come back to this chapter and the next one and tweak some of the details because _there are so many details omg what was I thinking._ But I won't know what I'll need to change until I've written the rest of the things but hnnnnngggggh)**

* * *

Jack took a deep breath and stared up at the sky. It was so early that from what he could see of it near the rooftops of the tall buildings it was still tinged pink. Plumes of clouds drifted high and out of reach.

On one of the nearby buildings Jack could just barely see a witch re-adjusting a weathervane; it explained why none of the clouds drifted over the street and left the sky above Jack's head a clear, pale blue.

The street he stood on was wide enough to support busy crowds of witches and wizards even when it was essentially a side street to the one that he and his sister would soon get to see. Yet it was still much bigger than many of the streets he had previously walked on, if they could be called that.

None of them had had so many of the vibrant decorations he could see strung up in the shop windows and twined around the lamp posts in shades of red, orange, pink, and gold in honour of the upcoming summer festival. Jack was sure that the main street would be done up even more.

Nearby he heard his sister giggling and running around. From behind there came the quiet murmers of his mother and a man named Christopher Armitage as they finished up their breakfast and tea at one of the outdoor tables of a small cafe.

Jack heard and saw all of this and wondered yet again how he'd ended up here.

At Halley House, school shopping was a big affair. There the residents had a particular way of handling it.

It was taken as a fact that those who were of schooling age all had to work together to get their school supplies in order. Throughout the summer it became a kind of back-alley business for the younger children to meet up with older children and ask them for their old books and bags and robes and other such items, usually trading them chores if they had nothing else to offer. The successes of these trades were always determined by the connections the individual children built up and how fast they were to act on them. If they lacked for one or didn't act quick enough then ... too bad for them.

While that was going on the parents, guardians, and/or passed out students who had jobs and younger siblings would begin to meet up intermittently, particularly in the late summer, and between sessions of tea and local gossip would fix a date for all going out shopping together. This date was usually set anywhere between two to three weeks before the start of school - close enough to the date that the supplies would've arrived but far enough away that there would still be enough left overs in the shops to pass around. The children would then be summoned, a handful of parents or adults would be chosen, and as one they would descend on a local shopping street that sold everything they needed second hand or almost free.

Again, school shopping was a big thing in Halley House, something that all the people concerned took as a team effort to see through. It was also something that centred around the children who usually went to a residential wizarding secondary school, about half a day away by broomstick ride and nestled into one of the many hidden valleys that dotted the countryside, shrouded by the usual assortment of protective spells that were known for these schools.

Such schools were rather common in the middle and lower class wizarding communities and ran for a shorter time than the muggle schools and higher-end wizarding schools did. In fact, a large section of the school year was spent not in the schools themselves but in the homes, with the students being sent back with their notes and textbooks to be home-schooled. The students who spent the most time in the school attending classes were the ones in their last two years of schooling. Most of the other students would only return to the school for either their yearly final exams or for any other important exams, those usually being taken by the older students and often to apply for jobs in the ministry.

There were very few children in Halley House who went to such a school as Hogwarts. Jack was one of those children.

For him the procedure had gone differently. He hadn't been required to spend the better half of his summer running around after older kids, nor had his mother seeked to invite herself to one of the "afternoon gatherings" that such things were all about.

Before they could've even thought to start on all that, someone from the government had come to _them._

Mr. Christopher Armitage, as he called himself, was from the part of the Ministry that dealt with student affairs. Months before Jack's birthday he had sent them a letter asking if Mrs. Overland would mind terribly if he came over for tea, for he had a matter of great import to discuss with them.

It was through him that they learnt that Jack had been accepted to study at Hogwarts, one of the most prestigious magical schools on the English continent, long before Jack's letter was even set to arrive.

Mr. Armitage had come by regularly since then. It turned out that he was the same wizard who had helped with Jack and Emma's primary schooling and that Jack's mother knew him from a while back, though she'd told them she hadn't quite realized it as most of the correspondence between the two up until then had been through paper work and legal transactions.

It felt strange for Jack to put a face to a faceless entity that had been present for a significant part of his childhood, even when he hadn't known it. But Mr. Armitage had told them that this time it was a very personal and important matter, especially for them, and that it was his duty to accompany them through every step of it should they wish for it.

"When it concerns those who will be spending their first year at Hogwarts, I always take it as my responsibility to help in any way I can. The first year is the most important one, you know." He had told Jack.

It was the reason why Jack's little family found themselves up bright and early in one of the four big magical streets of England exactly two days before the great Summer Festival.

Jack snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a tug on his arm. Next to him stood Emma as she finished tying a length of red ribbon to his wrist. She caught his staring and grinned, then she turned tail and skipped away.

Jack looked over the blaringly red ribbon and hid a fond smile. It didn't really match his outfit, but then again what he'd eventually ended up choosing had, although respectable, turned out rather bland. A clean enough white shirt, a brown weskit that thankfully had all of its buttons, and one of two trousers - this one also brown - that still managed to fit him. Maybe it would help him look more in the holiday spirit, if nothing else.

Meanwhile Emma had gotten ahold of a light pink one for herself which incidentally matched the exact shade of her nicest pinafore. She twirled it around her head like the festival had already come and there was music playing.

But out of all of them, if anyone was dressed strangely it would be Mr. Armitage. For some reason he'd come that morning wearing a black muggle suit complete with a tie and hat to match. It seemed an uncomfortable choice for late summer, amongst other things. Jack wondered if that was how wizards from the ministry liked to dress or if the man just didn't mind others staring at him.

Speaking of which, Jack's ears perked up when he heard Mr. Armitage finish his tea.

"... I think that's all for now. Thank you again for coming out here Mrs. Overland." He said, dusting off his lapels.

"No trouble at all, Christopher. And I've already told you, none of that formal talk. Just call me Anita."

Even as she said that, Mr. Armitage merely chuckled. "Apologies, auntie. It's old habit for me."

Emma ran over to them as soon as Mr. Armitage stood up. "Are we ready now?" She asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Almost. Just one more thing." He turned to Jack's mother. "Do you wish to accompany us?"

Instead of giving him an answer, she addressed Jack. "What do you think, Jack? This trip is for you, after all."

Would he like his mother to come along? Ideally, Jack wouldn't mind. He had a feeling that it was her first time on a shopping street as big as this one, though the ease with which she sat under the colourful umbrella hung over the table didn't show it. He wanted her to be there to see him get his new books when he did. He wanted her to see how well his brand new school robes fit on him. "New" was a thing that they weren't used to and he knew it would be a treat for all of them.

But Jack hesitated. There were a few theories floating around in his head that he needed answers to. For reasons he knew his mother would disapprove of, he didn't want to search for them while she was around.

So when he did walk up to her, he stood before her with his hands intertwined like he was nervous.

"If it's alright, I ... I want to buy my school supplies with just Em' and Mr. Armitage today." His voice came out soft and shy, his face carefully innocent. He would've called her "Mama" to add on to the sympathy factor but that would've given it away; she knew he didn't call her that unless he felt he'd done something worthy of getting him in trouble.

His mum smiled. Her hand came up to cup his face. "Of course you can, dear. It's fine with me. I'll stay put right over here waiting for you."

"Thanks, mum. We''ll come back soon." On impulse, Jack kissed her cheek. Then he went to Emma and took her hand.

"We ready, Emma?" He asked her.

"Ready!" She pumped their linked hands.

Mr. Armitage nodded. "Then we'd best be off. Good day, auntie." He gave her a quick bow before putting his hat on, ever the gentleman.

Jack and Emma waved to her as they walked down the street until they turned the corner and lost sight of her.

"Where're we going now?" In spite of how much he wanted to look around at everything Jack made sure to keep pace with Mr. Armitage.

"First the bank to see about the money. Then on to the main thoroughfare where we'll get started on the shopping."

Around the next turn the street widened even further. Shops were just beginning to open for the day. Jack could see a few people decorating the store fronts with more ribbons and bunches of red and yellow flowers clustered in thick green leaves, some others carrying in last minute shipments, and all who were about generally doing everything they could to prepare for the festivities to come. The anticipation in the air was rich and palpable; Jack could almost hear the phantom music weave through the air, sweetened by the laughter of happy people and lined with the heady aroumas of fried pastries and sugar-coated fruits.

The bank they came to was not what Jack had expected. The structure wasn't particularly impressive or brooding or anything else. No stone gargoyles crouched over the windows and there were no marble columns in sight. Instead the front of the building had a plain but clean face and was more wide than it was tall, which was about one story. The buildings around it made it seem smaller and flatter than it actually was. It looked more like either the biggest building in a particularly boring village or a minimalist museum owned by a muggle on a budget.

They walked inside and were met with cream walls and polished wooden floors. Even at such an early hour there were witches and wizards milling around the large area, some of them waiting in chairs set up along the walls of the room for their number to be called while some others worked at the front desks.

When he saw who else were present behind the desks, he couldn't help but stare. Nearby, he heard Emma squeak.

"Faeries!" She whispered.

They were indeed. Human sized faeries worked alongside the witches and wizards. Their transluscent wings fluttered behind them, and Jack could distinctly see golden dust floating in their wake.

Before they'd entered the bank Mr. Armitage had taken firm hold of both of them. On Emma's exclamation, Jack felt him give his hand a light squeeze. "They are, and one of them probably heard you. You're lucky they're fond of children. Now, stay sharp you two."

He walked them to the front counter and stated their business to the wizard who sat there. Jack made sure to pay close attention.

"... Ah, yes. From the ministry. Hm. Yes ... yes, everything seems to be in order here." The wizard handed a roll of parchment back to Mr. Armitage, which he returned to the inside of his suit jacket. "What is it you will be needing today, sir?"

"The funds that have been kept aside for Mr. Jackson Overland, if you would."

Adjusting his spectacles, the wizard shuffled through a few drawers and came out with some papers and a key. He read over the papers and nodded. "Here they are. Shall I ask one of the staff to bring the money to you or would you like to collect it yourself?"

Mr. Armitage looked down at them. Jack stared up at him, open and curious. From the edge of his sight he could barely make out Emma leaned against the man's leg and giving him what was most likely a pleading face.

"... If it could be arranged, I would prefer to go to the collection center along with these children."

"Very good, sir." From the papers, the wizard pulled out a tiny, golden key. He swung open a small door next to the desk and called out. "Deeya, would you mind taking the customers, please?"

"Gladly." A musical voice answered.

As it turned out, Deeya was a faery. The sight of her was enough to make Emma quietly gasp.

Specks of golden dust from her wings twinkled on her dark skin and hair, dissolving into the air around her and giving the impression that she faintly glowed. Tiny, golden bells hung from her ears and she wore a pretty smile to match, along with the green robes and golden sash of all of the bank employees. She took the key, caught sight of them, and without a word she held her hand out to Emma. Emma looked just about ready to float off of the ground.

Walking past the desk, Jack noticed a non-descript wooden door in the back. Deeya led them to it. While she did, she spoke to Emma, her voice all but wrapping around the enraptured girl.

"Do you know why this bank is considered one of the best in the magical world?" She asked her.

Emma shook her head, easily keeping pace with Deeya's slow gait.

"It is because only faeries can truly access it. Amongst the Fae there are different races, each with different powers and affinities. Those of us who run the magical banks of England are a particular kind of faery that have a close affinity for precious stones and metals. We draw magic from them, and we value those creatures - be they wizard or no - who treat them with the respect that they deserve. That ... and we have a particular way of storing all of it." Deeya winked, and with a flourish she opened the door.

The door swung inwards and a bright light poured out. Still holding Emma's hand, Deeya walked through. Jack and Mr. Armitage followed quickly after.

Nothing would've prepared Jack for what he saw next.

Imagine a hollow globe made up of golden bands. Inside of it are moving parts and compartments, so tiny and intricate that it is hard to tell what they are. Now imagine that structure expanded, grown so big that it could fit several buildings inside of it, could probably fit half a city inside of it.

That was the space Jack found himself in. They were standing in a well-lit space, on a wide, golden ramp that had no visible railing. All around them the air was filled with hundreds of thousands of faeries. They came in different shapes and sizes, ranging everywhere from the meagre hight of a butterfly to as tall as Deeya herself, and almost all of them had something golden on them. Jack could guess that the actual money and goods were stored along the far walls, but those walls were so far away that he could barely make them out let alone see any details.

It was as if they'd entered into a pocket of space that didn't fit into the rest of reality. How was it possible for such a place to exist? How was _any_ of this possible?

"This is the collection center. All around it are doorways which access different locations on the English continent and even a select few scattered throughout the rest of the world. This place can only be accessed through those doorways and can only be navigated by faeries such as myself. Well, and perhaps other flying creatures, I suppose."

Without warning Emma shot off and ran to one of the far edges. Before Jack could think to go after her she stopped, her hands pressed flat over what looked like empty air.

A large hand nudged his back. Jack tilted his head up and saw Mr. Armitage smiling down at him. He gave him another encouraging nudge.

Taking cautious steps, Jack walked to the edge, hands held out before him. Without warning his fingers brushed against a cool surface. He yanked them back and stared. Then he slowly reached forward again.

It wasn't glass. But it was cold and smooth. When Jack put both hands on it and pressed, the substance didn't give.

Now that he looked properly he saw that a few humans were up in the air. Each one held the hand of a faery. When one such pair went through the barrier - which parted around them like water - he saw that she too had a faint glow around her like her faery companion. The witch gave a short bow to the faery and they walked out the door.

Jack felt a flutter in his stomach. Would they have to do that too?

"Would you like to go to the vault yourself, sir?" Deeya asked. She'd addressed that to Armitage.

"No, thank you. I would much prefer that the money be brought here."

"Certainly. Let me just - oh. Oh goodness, hullo." From out of the cloud of her hair, Deeya pulled out the whisp of a faery that had flown into it. His wings fluttered quickly as he clung to her finger, tiny and pale. "Are you alright?"

Jack's eyes were sharp enough that he saw the faery nod. Deeya smiled and waited for him to stand on her palm before she pulled out the key. "He will go to the vault and return with the designated amount. Do you know how much you need?"

"Ah, yes. Yes I do." From out of his pocket Mr. Armitage removed a small piece of parchment. He gave it to the smaller faery and the faery disappeared, leaving nothing but a trail of golden dust.

Not long afterwards he returned with a bag of coins easily twice as large as him floating in his wake. Mr. Armitage took the bag, thanked the two faeries, made sure Emma and Jack did the same, and then the group returned to the bank proper.

Jack stayed quiet while some more paperwork was done, at one point having to sign one of the documents. He stayed quiet until they exited the building and stood on the street once more.

"Alright, children. As both of you know, the street that you see before you is the main street. Since the bank is here it means that all the places that we will be visiting today are set up along here as well. And if you wander to our right, opposite the main square and all the way until you reach the great archway over there, where will you end up?"

"At the entrance of a cemetary in Nottingham, located in Nottinghamshire, England." Emma said, tilting her chin up and looking proud. That year her class was set to start learning basic geography and Emma had been preparing.

"Very good. Are there any questions?"

Jack tugged on his sleeve. "Are we going to use all of that today?" He pointed to the bag of coins that Mr. Armitage still held.

Mr. Armitage's brows furrowed but still he answered. "I should think not. Part of it will be spent here but there should be plenty left over for when you might need it later on in the year."

"Can I see?"

"Of course, Jack. By all means, it's yours now." Mr. Armitage gave the bag to Jack. It weighed heavy in his hands.

When Jack pulled the drawstring open, he saw that most of the contents were golden galleons, with only a few silver sickles scattered in between. That was more galleons than Jack had ever physically seen in one place up until that point.

Jack nodded, his mind made up. He tugged Emma to his side and, upon instructing her to hold out her skirt pockets, started piling coins into them.

"Okay, so if you take home about half of these then there should be enough left over for me to get the books and other things with. And whatever's left of _that_-"

"Wait, wait, wait, Jack-" Mr. Armitage grabbed his hands. Jack would've ripped them away if he didn't think he'd spill the coins. "What are you doing?"

"I'm dividing up my money." Jack tugged on his hands and Mr. Armitage easily let go. He clutched the bag of coins, _his_ bag of coins, close to his chest. "It's mine now, right? I can do what I want with it, right? If I don't really, _really_ need some of this, then I'll give it to my family. They need it more than I do. It's not like I'll have to pay for my food over there. I've already thought it up. I can spend some of this on ingredients and tools - you know, things that need to be high quality - and get the rest of it somewhere else."

"Jack, listen-"

"There's a street I know. It's nearby. We can go to one of the stores there and get the books cheap-"

"Jack-"

"-and I can borrow some robes from one of the older kids, I know they still have some. They'll just need a little mending-"

"_Jack!_"

Jack shut his mouth and glared. Around them they'd begun to attract attention, by that time the crowds having thickened just enough that the street didn't look entirely deserted. He could feel the eyes of a few passerbyes but he refused to look away. So what if they stared? Let them. As if he cared one wit what anyone thought.

Mr. Armitage lowered his hands, sighing. "I apologise for yelling, but what say we talk about this somewhere else?" Jack opened his mouth to argue but Mr. Armitage put a hand up. "I'm not taking away your money, I promise I'm not. And I _will_ listen to you. All I ask is that you listen to me, too. Fair enough?"

It wasn't unreasonable. Jack hated to admit it. He was still convinced that there was nothing anyone could say to change his mind, but if he knew that he'd be heard he didn't entirely mind the thought.

Next to him, Emma stared between the two. Her eyes were wide and scared, her hands gripped in the worn edges of her skirt. She'd gone outside that day thinking they'd all have a good time. She hadn't asked for any of this.

Jack looked at her and felt a sliver of shame crawl into him. Just a little, though.

Mouth still set in a stubborn line, Jack took back the coins he'd given to Emma. He pulled the drawstring shut, grabbed Emma's hand, and followed Mr. Armitage as he led them around the side of the bank building.

The side of the building was a washed out white, the paint cracking around the edges. Over there the ground was made of packed dirt instead of cobblestone. It muffled their footsteps as they walked through.

When they'd gotten far enough Mr. Armitage knelt down before him. Jack didn't look at him. He settled for keeping his eyes on one of the weeds that poked out of the ground next to Mr. Armitage's knee.

There was a quiet stillness to the air. Somehow the outside bustle and excitement didn't reach this place.

Both of them waited for the other to speak. Eventually he heard Mr. Armitage sigh.

"Jack ... what happened? Do you want to explain?"

"There's nothing to explain." Jack crossed his arms. He deemed enough time to have passed to look up at Mr. Armitage. "I know I'm right."

"About what?"

That annoyed Jack. Why was this man asking him questions that he of all people should've known the answers to? He was the one person who was supposed to know all this after working so long with other kids like Jack. Wasn't any of it obvious? "I know that I need to divide my money evenly. I know that I should put it where it'll help the most. I know that everything I need can be found somewhere else. If I knew that I'd be getting this much money from this scholarship then I would've never come here in the first place."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't belong here!" Jack finally snapped. "And I can't pretend I do either! Do I look like someone who wants to walk around looking like something I'm not? I don't! Those people - the kids and teachers and all of them - at this fancy school I'm going to can just learn to deal with it if they care so much about admitting someone like me."

"They _do_ care about you. It's why you were given that much money to begin with. To even things out for you."

Even with Jack getting riled up at him, Mr. Armitage didn't react like Jack expected him to. He didn't even look angry. He just looked tired. Tired and patient, like how his mother looked when Jack or Emma were being difficult.

"I don't need other people's charity."

"You are not a charity case - no, no, listen to me-" Mr. Armitage pressed on, even as Jack opened his mouth to argue, "if you really were a charity case to them then do you honestly think the school would've given you so much? Think about it."

It was like dropping an ice cube into a cup of hot water. It did not stop the steam, but ... it made Jack pause.

Mr. Armitage saw that and continued. "If they were only letting you in out of pity then they wouldn't have invested so much in you. Hogwarts _wants_ you to do well. They _want_ you to have all that you need to secure a bright future for yourself."

He sounded sincere. Jack wanted to think that it was true. That what he said was the truth. He wanted to think that there were strangers in the world who had his well-being at heart. But even then, even if it were true, how could they just expect Jack to take all of what they gave for himself?

His toes curled in his boots as Jack wavered. "But ... is it wrong for me to want to help my family? Is that such a bad thing?"

"It is not. It's a very admirable and noble quality. But you'll be helping them more by investing in yourself first. Think of it like this," Mr. Armitage held up a finger, "how many years will you be in school? Seven," he held up seven fingers. "That's seven years to study and learn and do the best you can. Now, if you were to put aside half of what you have now towards your family's expanses how long do you think that money will last?"

Jack shrugged. "With extra food and repairs and warmer clothes for winter, maybe ... a few weeks? Three months at most."

"Three months. This bag is supposed to last you for a full year. Come next year and you'll get another one with the same amount. You spend as much as you need with this one, and I'm sure you'll have some left over. Keep that money. Put it somewhere where you know you can find it when you're in need. I know ..."

Here his face grew solumn, "... I know that for a family that's just getting by that saving up is not something that is possible or affordable. That there sometimes isn't a point in emergency savings because sooner or later life itself becomes a general state of emergency. I ... I've seen it first hand. But I have also seen that your family hasn't reached that point yet. You have a place to stay and a steady source of income, and that's more than I can say for others that I've worked with."

"Jack, there is a truth I know and it is this: education is a class gateway. It's your ticket to a better life. And by ensuring a stable future for yourself what you'll do is ensure a stable future for your family. If you're going to remember anything then remember that."

Jack stared at him. Something about his face must've told Mr. Armitage that Jack hadn't entirely processed all of what he'd said because Armitage sighed, his eyes closing and his shoulders dropping with them.

One of his hands came up over his heart. A moment later he opened his eyes and nodded.

From within his suit, Mr. Armitage pulled out a tangle of thin leather chord. He held it up between him and Jack and out dropped a small bell, glittering and golden in the morning light as if brand new.

"You see this?" He asked both of them. "This here is a present that a very dear someone gave to me a long time ago. Listen."

He shook the bell. At first there was nothing, only a faint hum.

Then Emma stepped forward, hands extended. Mr. Armitage let her hold the bell and Emma shook it again.

"... I hear it!" She smiled. She made Jack lean closer and shook the bell for him.

"... I hear it too." And he did. At first it was soft, but on the next ring it came out clear, the sound high and sweet. He took the bell from Emma and rung it himself and again the sound came.

"Then there is hope for you yet." Mr. Armitage said. "That person gave it to me when I needed something to believe in. Someone believed in me back then. And in that school someone believes in you, Jack. If I could keep my hope in them for all these years then I have no doubt that you - both of you - can can keep that same hope alive in yourselves, too."

He sounded so honest and genuine as he spoke those words that Jack almost hated him for it.

It was odd. Jack didn't know how but his eyes felt somehow clearer. It felt as if a place deep within him had been momentarily unburdened of his worries. A weight he'd always carried with him was lightened and it felt a little easier to breathe, a little easier for him to hope. For him to dare to believe that there really did exist people in the world who carried such good will inside of them.

He wanted to believe that. He really, _really_ did.

He still wished that he could've found a strong enough arguement against what he'd been told. Maybe if he were older or knew more than he did right then he might have been able to, but at that moment he couldn't find the words. Not when he stood there under the early morning sky, wearing the clothes he was growing too big for and holding a bag made of better quality leather than his scuffed up, hand-me-down boots. Not when he had a feeling that someday in the future he would look at this moment again with the hope that he'd done something right.

Jack stared down at the bell, then at the bag in his hands. It felt so selfish and _wrong_ to even think of taking all of it. It felt wrong to call it his.

But maybe ... maybe for now he could concede. Maybe for this he could give up and go along with what he was expected to do. Later he could figure out something. Find another solution to get rid of the guilt that weighed in his belly.

For one of the first times in Jack's young life, he swallowed his pride.

He looked up at Mr. Armitage who knelt before him. It made it so that Jack ended up being taller than him.

Jack held out the coin purse. "... I'll agree to buy my supplies here. I'll agree to go along with this for now. But if things change and I feel like I don't have a choice, then I'll do what I think is best for myself and the people I care about."

"That is all I ask." Mr. Armitage accepted the bag.

He tucked the bell away and stood up. Together they walked out from between the buildings and took a left turn.

It wasn't long before they entered the main square. In its center was erected the largest statue that Jack had ever seen. Or rather, it was the first statue he'd ever seen in person that extended so far over him that Jack was sure if the statue were to spring to life and its iron foot were to step on his head then he'd easily be crushed like the miniscule insect he felt like. The thought made him feel a little weak in the knees.

The statue was that of a witch. She stood almost as tall as the surrounding buildings and wore miner's gear and a cape that floated in an imagined breeze. In her left hand she held a lantern aloft, her other hand clenched around a wand. The dull grey of the metal surface that had spent countless years exposed to the elements only served to make the lines feel harsher, to make it seem as if she had been carved out from the stone she now stood on. From the edges of the platform there grew four signposts in the four cardinal directions, stretching out into graceful arches tall enough for an adult to easily walk under.

"That is the statue of Lucia, The Lady of the Light, one of the four great architects. One thing you should know is that if you tap your wand to one of the signposts and walk under it, you will be transported to one of four magical places in the United Kingdom." Mr. Armitage walked them right up to the statue. He obliged Emma when she asked for a boost so she could swing from one of the sign posts.

Jack stared up at the statue. Even from that angle he could see the witch's strong jaw and deep set eyes. The look in them made her appear solumn and stern. He wondered what she must've gone through to give her such a look. He wondered if someday he'd ever look as impressive as that or if he'd still remain a spindly twig even after he'd grown up.

Soon after, Mr. Armitage led the siblings away. The first place they went to was a robe shop called "Enchanting Robes for Enchanting Occasions".

The sight of the front entrance was enough to make both siblings balk.

"This is so weird, this is _so_ weird." Jack muttered. Mr. Armitage had to all but march him in, the firm grip he had on Jack's shoulder carrying a promise of getting a lot firmer if he didn't cooperate. Meanwhile Emma seemed to be trying her best to simultaniously walk and mould herself into Jack's back and that was not helping his situation at all.

"Given that you'll be attending Hogwarts now, I assure you that it will only get worse from here on out. You'll just have to get used to it." Mr. Armitage stated crisply. Then the shop keeper found them and he was all smiles.

The shop was run by a kind, cheerful, and rather pretty witch named Giselle. No one had to worry about trying to separate Emma from her brother because the moment the older witch grabbed ahold of Jack Emma fled to hide behind Mr. Armitage. The traitor.

Giselle ushered a very flustered Jack onto one of the stools and spelled a measuring tape into taking his measurements, talking all the while about how _lucky_ they were to have come before the actual morning rush or else there would've been _such_ a big line and she wouldn't have had the time to talk to them like this, but then again the days between the school season and the time of the festival were always busy and she was certainly grateful for it but a peaceful morning every now and then was such a welcome thing, and so on and so forth.

Between her bubbly chatter, Mr. Armitage conversed with her like it was natural and he wasn't overwhelmed or intimidated at all - unlike Jack - adding a word in here and there to tell her little details, like what good and remarkable children Jack and Emma were, how in all the time he'd known them they always tried to look out for each other and their hardworking mother.

He said those things so casually but it was enough to make the seamstress go into a frenzy of hightened emotion. The one saving grace that stopped the whole thing from becoming a mortifying ordeal was the fact that hardly any other customers were in the store and none of them were within hearing range.

Not only did they get the orders for all of Jack's school robes and uniform ironed out, but by the end of it he had two new casual robes and an additional woolen cape, free of charge. They'd even purchased Emma a pretty set of winter robes and her own little cape to match.

"This feels like cheating." Jack said. He watched as Mr. Armitage carefully tucked the folded robes into a corner of the carpet bag he'd brought with him.

From what Jack understood the bag had both a small expanding spell and a weight lightening spell which would make things easier for them later. Next to them Emma was still twirling around with her new cape and admiring herself in a window but she had promised Mr. Armitage that she'd let him pack it away in a minute.

Mr. Armitage merely chuckled. "Not exactly. In spite of appearances or assumptions, I assure you that Madame Giselle has been doing this for far too long to fall for such a thing. She's aware of the kind of children I work with and just so happens to be an incredibly kind soul."

Jack was grateful for that and for the witch helping them, he really was. He was also sure that he'd probably find it in himself to be more grateful just as soon as his cheeks stopped feeling so hot.

Next they went to a place that sold things like cauldrons, dragon hide gloves, weighing scales, glass bottles, and other such equipment that any self respecting witch or wizard would need.

They got the standard potions ingredients at an apothecary - this one much larger than the one his mother worked at - with the wares all laid out on the shelves and display tables, some of them in trays, some pickled in jars, and a few of the more lively ones (Fresh ermine fur! Brush them yourself! Ermines not included in purchase) in cages.

While Mr. Armitage paid for the purchases, Jack took extra care to make sure that the packets containing the more fragile ingredients (eyes and tongues and such things that hadn't been sealed inside glass bottles) were safely stored in the confines of the brass cauldron he'd picked out.

By the time they were done with that the sun had risen enough to signal the start of the mid-morning rush. The street was bustling with witches and wizards who had come either for last minute school shopping or to prepare for the upcoming festival or even both, if what Jack heard in passing was any indication. After buying rolls of parchment and ink bottles from a store crammed right on the edge of the main square they maneuvered through the foot traffic and entered a large bookshop that was only a little less crowded on the inside than what they'd seen outside.

From behind the front desk, a bespectacled man stood up to greet them. "Hello! Hello and welcome, dear customers! And if it isn't young Christopher! To what do I owe the pleasure, lad?"

Mr. Armitage shook the hand that was offered to him and smiled warmly. "Hullo, doctor. Today we are here for school books."

"Of course, of course. And I see you have some new faces with you." The man gave them a once over. "First year at Hogwarts, I assume? Right this way, then."

Between the milling customers and the stacks of books that had been sorted into neat piles on the floor, they were led to a place near the front window display where there was already a crowd of parents calling out for their own books. Nudging one of the shop assistants aside, he made quick work of grabbing the ones he needed without having to use either a written list or a point of reference to find them.

He was just about to hand the stack over to Mr. Armitage when they all heard shouting. At the other end of the store they saw a knot of crowd forming and various octaves of decidedly angry screams coming from within it.

"Oh no. That would be where the monster books are. If you'd excuse me-" He paused when Mr. Armitage waving him off.

Putting down the carpet bag, Mr. Armitage rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his own wand. "I'll see what I can do, doctor. Jack, Emma, please stay here until I come back." And then he was off, navigating the crowd and into the growing chaos.

They watched him go. The shop owner sighed and put down the books.

"Such a responsible lad. Always has been." He took off his spectacles and began to clean them.

"Are you really a doctor?" Emma asked.

The man regarded her with an air of amusement. "That would be Dr. Delbert Doppler to you, young lady. And I am, just not of the Healer kind. I also happen to be a licensed priest - the other one, not the Christian one - but that's more an outcome from being a squib, I'd say."

"You're a squib?"

"Yes indeed. And blessed I am every day to also be the husband of my lovely wife, Captian Amelia, and the proud father of our children. By the way, has anyone ever told you about her? She's a captian so that means she goes on adventures for a living." In spite of how casual he'd sounded earlier, the moment he mentioned his wife he started talking like someone who'd just been waiting for anyone passing by to get him started on his favourite topic.

While he entertained a dazzled Emma with talk of his sea captian wife, Jack looked out the shop window.

Now that he was out of the rushing crowds he was able to descern some kind of order amongst them. At one point in the morning what appeared to be a raised platform had been set up near the mouth of the square and a section of the crowd were gathered around it. There was something going on or was about to happen there but he couldn't see what.

Along with that, Jack noticed that a few stalls had been set up around the street. They too were decorated with ribbons like the kind Emma had been toting earlier. Last he saw of it, she'd tied it to one of the signposts and left it there to flutter in the breeze.

Jack tried to see if he could spot it but when he looked towards the statue he saw that there were more children there, running around the base or trying to climb it. A few of them were even tying ribbons of their own to various signposts. And unless Jack was mistaken he was pretty sure he just saw a wizard disappear under one of the archways. But with all the people everywhere he couldn't know for sure. How was it so crowded?

"Why, it's like this every year."

Jack hadn't realized he'd said that last part out loud. He looked up and saw Dr. Doppler regarding him curiously.

Jack shrugged. "It's our first time here, so ..."

The man smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. "Stick around then and you'll be in for a treat. Every year the celebrations for the summer festival that happen on this street are the biggest in all of wizarding England. There's music and dancing and lots of food and fireworks. And for all the five nights we light the great lamp and it stays lit for the duration the night's celebrations."

From the floor the doctor picked up some of the fallen books. One of them he held out for Jack to see. It showed a picture that had a stylized sun engraved on its center, along with smaller symbols surrounding it. "This book goes more in depth about this festival and others related to it. And as a person who has learnt about the holy days and plays an active role in these matters, I can personally say that this one does a fair job."

Jack held the book and allowed Emma to poke through the pages before he returned it. "By lamp, do you mean the lamp on the statue over there of ... of Lucia?"

"Lady Lucia Garcia Rosa Obrador, The Lady of the Light. Also known as The Engineer, The Genius, The First Stone Weaver. Considered to be one of the greatest magical architects of our time, her bloodline still runs strong and her descendents live on to this day. She's the one who built this street and created those signposts, you know."

"That's amazing!" Emma said, now also looking out the display window, her eyes shining.

"It is. And if you ever want to grow up to be like her then you'll be needing a strong basis in Arithmancy, my dear. Can't go bending space and stone to your will if you don't know that." Dr. Doppler gently tapped her head with one of the books before returning it to its stack.

"Will I be learning about her this year?" Jack wondered, casting a curious glance to his own books.

"You're bound to, sooner or later- hm, what's that?" Dr. Doppler turned when one of the shop assistants tapped his shoulder. "We're running short on the seasonal books? Already? Oh bother, where is that boy? I'd asked Jim to help with the new shipments. Nevermind, nevermind, you take your break, Audrey. I'll handle it from here."

He shooed the assistant away and peered into the shop's interior. "Now where _is_ that lad? He should've finished up by now, at least."

Jack squinted through the crowd. Then he pointed. "Found him."

It was indeed Mr. Armitage, looking slightly ruffled around the edges but otherwise no worse for wear. He eventually reached them and after checking in with Jack and Emma, he thanked Dr. Doppler profusely. In short order the three of them gathered up the books, paid for them at the front desk, and by the flow of the crowd were herded out the door.

"Well, I got my morning exercise in, so that's fun." Mr. Armitage checked the carpet bag over before shutting it tight. "What's the next thing on our list, children?"

"A wand. It says here we need to get Jack a wand." Emma said, pointing to the supply list on the letter, which by then had been entrusted to her to keep in her pocket.

"I know just the place. Follow me." Mr. Armitage took Jack and Emma's hands and the trio walked into the street.

They went out of the square, in the direction of the robes shop and opposite that of the bank and the main archway. As they wandered down the street Jack noticed that the traffic grew a little thinner. He also noticed that a couple shops ahead of them there appeared a high, mossy brick wall marking the end of the street.

There was one shop near that way that Mr. Armitage led them towards. It was small and unobtrusive, easy to miss between the two buildings that bracketed it. Over the door there hung a painted sign that read _Edevanes: Wands of Quality_.

A bell rang when Mr. Armitage opened the door. Inside the shop was cool, clean, and blessedly empty. The floor and walls were made of a light, almost yellow, wood and what few furnishings there were carried a pleasantly green colour scheme.

Much of the interior was more shelves than open space and a few minutes after the bell rang they heard a warm, pleasant voice.

"Who is it?"

Mr. Armitage set the carpet bag down. "It is Christopher Armitage."

From out of the shelves there appeared a slender witch dressed in flowing green robes. What struck Jack the most about her were the deep brown eyes that peered out at them from her heart-shaped face. Those eyes lit up the moment they caught sight of Mr. Armitage.

She walked up to them and gave him a brief hug. "Hullo, Chris. It's good to see you again."

"I'm happy to see you as well, Tiana." He returned her hug and then stepped back. "I wanted you to meet two of my current charges."

Tiana looked to where he directed her and saw the two still standing in the doorway. They were treated to a dazzling smile that made prominent dimples show up in her cheeks.

"And what would your names be?" She asked them. If she was disturbed at all by their staring she didn't show it.

Jack decided to take the lead and came forward.

"My name is Jackson Overland, but normally I go by Jack." As was proper manners, he stuck out his hand.

Tiana shook it warmly. "My name is Tiana and I am honoured to meet you. Are you the one I will be giving a wand to today?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent." Tiana nodded. Then she turned to Emma. "And who might you be?"

Emma, who at that moment was partially hidden behind Jack, was being shy again.

Jack could understand why. The shop was clean and well-kept, the robes the witch wore were pretty, and the witch herself even more so. Meanwhile there stood Emma in her faded clothes and limp brown hair. It wasn't all that hard to figure out.

Keeping her face down, she mumbled. "... 'm Emma."

Jack gave her an unimpressed look. Emma blushed and stepped out.

Making a show of dusting her skirt off, she introduced herself properly. "My name is Emma Overland. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"And it is wonderful meeting you as well, Emma." Tiana took the hand that was offered to her in both of hers. On one of her fingers she wore a ring set with a deep green gemstone, with tiny diamonds surrounding it that glittered in the light.

She smiled when she saw Emma staring at it and held it up for both children to see. "This is my wedding ring. Isn't it pretty?"

"It's very pretty." Emma nodded, mesmerised.

"Thank you. It was given to me by a prince."

"A _prince?_"

"It's true." Mr. Armitage said as Tiana straightened up. "I would like to introduce you both to Princess Tiana Edevane ot Maldonia, married to the eldest prince of Maldonia."

That did the trick. Away went Emma's former shyness, instead replaced with an eager delight that overtook her face.

"Does that mean you live in a castle?!" She asked, almost bouncing on her toes.

Tiana chuckled. "Not at all. I visit sometimes but I mostly live here."

Emma opened her mouth to ask another question but then she paused. Her brows scrunched up as a thought struck her.

"If you get to be a princess ... then why are you a wandmaker?"

"Because this store, as well as the gift of wandmaking, belong to my family." Tiana said, sweeping a hand out to the store. "My family, _Edevane_, has been making wands for millenia. Ever since I was young I have always wanted to learn the craft. This is my family's legacy, and even after I married I still wished to keep it alive."

Tiana turned back at Emma. "If it's any consolation to you, I can tell you from first-hand experience that it is possible to be a princess and also follow your dreams. Now then, come!" She clapped her hands together. "Let us get on with the matter at hand."

Tiana made Mr. Armitage and Emma sit on two of the stools that were huddled near the door. From behind her desk she pulled out a tape measure that had silvery markings along its edges. Then she reached out and took Jack's chin in one slim hand.

For a moment Jack felt immobilized. The hand on his chin held him steady, as dark and deeply brown as the eyes that now seemed to peer right into his soul. It lasted hardly a second but it felt like much longer.

Tiana made an amused, huffing sound and withdrew. "You've got a solid streak of mischief in you, don't you child? I would call it an obvious Dogwood if it didn't feel so predictable. Arms out, please." She took up her tape measure and began to measure him. "But then again, that mischief I saw was tempered with goodwill and responsibility."

"You _saw_ it?" Jack asked. Had she really been staring into his head?

"In a sense, yes. I have a talent for this kind of thing. Always have. There are also other things I saw in you, both within and without. Clever eyes, kind heart. Loyalty, certainly. Aspen might do. Or perhaps Reed ..."

That last part sounded more like her speaking to herself. She straightened up and left the tape measure to continue its measuring. Disappearing into the shelves, she soon returned with an armful of thin, long boxes.

"Here we are. Now before we begin, I shall go over the basics."

Tiana laid the boxes on the floor. From out of the sleeve of her robes she pulled out her own wand. "To keep your wand attatched to you, what you want to do is take the base of your wand such that the wand is pointed _away_ from you, like so," she did this with hers, "tap it to your wrist - inner or outer, anywhere works - then circle the base around your wrist, tap the spot again, and you're done." Tiana let go, but instead of her wand falling to the ground it hung midair as if suspended by an invisible thread. "This is a weak spell that the tracking spell placed on you is made to ignore and which can be broken by just giving the wand a good tug, but it is also a standard issue spell that will ensure that your wand doesn't go flying out of your hand. I have been treated to far too many instances of wands hurtling into shelves, people, and even myself that I do not wish to see again if I can help it. Please also take care not to poke yourself in various body parts or in any of the furnature while you're testing out the wands. Did you get all of that? Lovely. Let's try these out."

Tiana opened a box at the top of the stack. "Dogwood, unicorn hair core. Twelve inches. Springy and rather flexible."

It was in Jack's hand for hardly a second before she snatched it away.

"Just as I thought. Predictable." She tisked, returning the wand to its box and pulling out another. "Walnut, unicorn hair core. Nine and a half inches. Try this on for size."

This time Jack got to hold it for longer. He waved it around some but all that came out was a weak shower of sparks.

"... Better than nothing. But not good enough." Tiana held out a different wand, this one bone white. "Aspen, dragon heartstring core. Ten inches. An agreeable wand, good for intricate spells."

Jack held it and didn't feel anything. Nothing happened when he waved it.

They went through six more wands before Tiana stood up, muttering to herself.

"Perhaps ... or it could be ... but would it work?" She went back to the shelves. A few minutes later she returned with two boxes.

She opened both of them and pointed to one. "Chestnut, dragon heartstring core. Nine inches." She pointed to the other. "Cedar, unicorn hair core. Eleven inches. Give them a try."

Jack took the first one but it felt the same as the others. He gave it back and took the second.

That was when he felt it. A warm feeling traveled up his arm, bubbly and energizing. He drew the wand down and slashed it up in a bright arc of white and golden sparks.

Tiana beamed. "_There_ we go. That's more like it. What do you say, Chris?"

From near the door, Mr. Armitage and Emma clapped. "I'd say we found a winner." Armitage said.

Jack smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. He felt amazing, _exhilarated_. He couldn't wait to start learning the spells that his wand would cast.

But for the time being he let Tiana take it. When she held it, it was with gentle hands and far away eyes. "... It _does_ suit you, now that I think about it."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"It's just ... I know the unicorn from which the hair within this wand came from." Tiana looked down at him. Her smile was just a touch mischievious. "He ... had a personality in him, let's just say. It fits. A fine, clever wand, just like its user."

After that the other wands were cleared away. Jack's new wand was packed into a box lined with velvet and paid for with seven galleons.

While they were finishing up the purchase, a few other customers walked into the store. Jack made absolute sure that his new wand was kept safely away before he allowed Emma to drag him out the door.

"Finally! I'm hungry." Emma whined. Now that she said it, Jack realized that he was too.

By then it was just about midday and the street was well and truly packed. The sun rode high in the sky, partially hidden by passing clouds but still bright and strong. Through the summer air there came the distant sounds of music. It also brought the smell of food, thin enough that it was hard to identify it and mixed in with dust, sweat, and heat off the cobblestones.

Mr. Armitage pulled back his sleeve. "The watch says it's now quarter to twelve. Our shopping is just about done and it's been long enough that your mother must be expecting us. Shall we go find her?"

"But can we still eat _here?_" Emma asked, pressing her body weight into his side.

"Yes, yes, of course we can. There's a nice inn we can go to where they- ... oh." Mr. Armitage trailed off. One of his hands came over his eyes and he squinted into the distance. "... Oh my."

Jack twisted his head around to try and see what he was looking at. Next moment his eyes went wide. "Is that-"

"IT IS!" Emma shrieked. Her near mad dash into the street was stopped by Jack and Mr. Armitage each grabbing an arm.

Across from them was none other than The Lucky Cat Cafe.

In the wizarding side of England, The Lucky Cat Cafe was something of an obscure urban legend. The sweets and treats sold in the cafe were rumoured to be the stuff of legends - delicious, high quality, and every single one unique in all the ways that no witch or wizard could replicate. But in spite of its popularity and high demand, the cafe had one peculiarity. It was a cafe that would pop up for a few days in a single location only to disappear into thin air and not be seen again for months on end. No one could ever predict when or where it would show up after that, not even those who considered themselves familiar with the cafe and its owner. The one thing that stayed consistent about it over the years was the fact that it would inevitably show up on one of the four renowned magical streets during festivals and holidays.

And wonder of wonders, it just so happened that the cafe had decided to occupy that very street for that year's summer festival.

Mr. Armitage tried to keep up with the two as they all but dragged him through the crowd. "Slow down, slow down! The cafe isn't going anywhere."

"_Yet_." Jack said.

Emma windmilled her free arm. "We're getting cake!"

"A whole cake."

"For mum!"

"And we'll all share."

"Can we get strawberry? Let's get strawberry!"

"Let's see what's there first." Mr. Armitage butted in.

They finally reached the cafe entrance. Together Emma and Jack pushed the glass door. It was a monumentous occasion.

The inside of the cafe was, to their surprise, nowhere near as packed as it should've been. Only half of the quaint little tables were occupied, one of the customers being a wizard who Jack vaguelly recognised seeing in passing in the bank earlier. At the counter there were three people in line.

Now that they were inside the shop Emma left them at the door and shot right to the nearest display case.

"So pretty! So pretty!" She gushed.

"Thank you! Which one would you like?"

Behind the counter Jack saw a young-ish looking adult with pink spectacles and dark blonde hair done up in a bun. The name tag over her apron read "Ramona/Honey Lemon".

He walked up to them while Emma shuffled her feet, undecided.

"... Which ones are good?" She asked.

Ramona (according to her name tag) smiled down at the two of them. "I'd say all of them. I helped make them."

He felt Mr. Armitage lean over him to get a look at the offered sweets himself. "Are you the person who owns the cafe?"

"Nah, I'm just a friend of the family. Ms. Hamada is out at the moment so I'll be helping you with your orders today."

"You talk strange. Are you not from England?" Jack asked her. Mr. Armitage made to shush him but Ramona simply laughed.

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Nope, I'm not from anywhere here. I'm visiting from America. I crossed over the pond for the summer and I'll be leaving soon. Now, what can I get you kids?"

They spent a while looking over the display cases. Cakes, biscuits, sweet rolls, fudges and toffees in different coloured, piles of candies that Jack couldn't recognise (according to a display card, one of them was called "dango" and they came on a stick) - there were so many to choose from. Ramona pointed out a board behind her that gave that day's special but when they heard "coffee walnut cake" both the siblings made a face.

In the end they went with a fluffy looking mixed berries and cream cake and about 2.5kg worth of bite-sized caramel squares. For the sake of Emma, who made sure to pointedly remind them that she was only six years old and had spent the _entire_ morning being very good and very patient, Mr. Armitage asked if the children could have a "smoothie" at one of the tables.

"Whatever that is." Mr. Armitage said, even as his two charges sniggered.

"It's made with milk and fruits. It's very good." With a wave of her wand, Ramona made some chopped fruit fly into a metal tumbler. She sealed it and tapped her wand to the outside. "Isn't that right, Haru?"

This she directed to the teenage girl who sat at the register. Her name tag read "Haruna/Mint" and with the line of waiting customers being long gone she perched on the stool behind the desk counting up the earnings, her quill idly wandering over the parchment next to her.

"Hm?" She looked up. "Ah, yeah, it's good." Then she went back to counting.

Ramona chuckled and shook her head, pulling out a tall glass. "By any chance, have you come here for school shopping?"

"Yes we did. How did you know?" Jack asked.

"Well it's not your sister who needs it and you look about old enough. You hear that, Haru? Your new junior's shopping here."

Jack couldn't help how his mouth dropped open a little. Another Hogwarts student. Suddenly he saw the teenager in a new light.

"You go to _Hogwarts?_ What year are you in? What's it like? Will I see you there?" Jack paused, realised he probably sounded like an idiot, and blushed. "I, I mean ... not that I need to know, or, you know ... uh ... yeah."

By then Haruna was staring at him. Putting aside her quill, she leaned forward until her face was just a little higher than his. Jack noticed that a few whisps of hair had escaped her ponytail and floated next to her face.

"... If you end up in Gryffindor house, you probably will." Then she held out a brown paper bag of caramel squares to him and raised her eyebrows, clearly amused. "Good luck."

Jack didn't know what to make it that, but he took the offered bag and rejoined the others.

They sat at a table near the wall and he and Emma made quick work of the smoothie. ("It's apple, want to try?" "No thank you, children, I'm fine.") By popular vote it was decided that the cake had a better chance of staying intact inside the carpet bag than outside of it and that Mr. Armitage would personally hold the caramel squares to avoid the other two potentially snacking on them.

Out through the doors and into the bustling crowds, they walked hand-in-hand as they slowly made their way up the road and finally past the main square. After that it was a matter of searching for the right side street that would take them back to the starting point.

In spite of the foot traffic and heat, Jack couldn't help but feel lighter. It felt good to have the morning shopping done. It felt good to be free to enjoy the rest of the day.

From the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Armitage peer down at him. "You look happy."

"I _am_ happy." Jack said. It was the truth, surprised as he was to realise it in such a place as this.

"Does that mean you think you might be able to get used to all this?"

Jack looked around. He looked at the colourful shop fronts, the decorations that hung everywhere. The bright flowers that sat perched over the doors and which he saw pinned to the hats of some of the witches who passed them by. From a nearby stall he smelt fried food, salty and fragrant.

"... Maybe." He shrugged, and left it at that.

* * *

**A/N:**

**\- I know you're probably confused about this made-up festival but I _promise_ I'll explain more on it in the next chapter.**

**\- In Hindi, Deeya means lamp. I thought it a good fit. _**

**\- Concerning the things mentioned in the bookstore, I hope you could tell that in this universe squibs differ slightly from the ones in the universe they originate from. In this world, I've given them abilities, duties, places of work, etc. that will allow them a stronger connection to the plot and a far more prominent role in their society and within these stories.**

**A long while ago I remember understanding that squibs act as the equivalent to the disabled in the Harry Potter universe. I remember that the ones who'd been present in those stories were two characters who were both elderly, one of them dispised and pitiable and the other one a side character who spoke only in one scene and never again.**

**Well. Things are going to be different here. I have lots of plans in store and you'll see what I'm talking about when I get to executing them.**

**\- Before anyone asks, Haruna's an OC I thought up a long while back; she's like a second or third cousin to the Hamada brothers. She's not a fem!Hiro, I'm sorry to say. But! I promise our fave child prodigy supernerd is gonna make his appearance eventually so look forward to that!**

**\- I think my favourite parts of this chapter was the wand selection and that bit of lore about The Lucky Cat Cafe. Which ones were yours? :D**


	4. Ch 4: Hiccup's POV (Part 1)

Chapter 4 (Part 1):

Hiccup comes to the conclusion that from now on his life is just going to be one cultural shock after another.

_(published in 2 parts because SOME website which I will not name says this chapter is too long)_

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hiccup's POV: *exists***

**Me: *attempts to amp up the sass***

**... Sooner or later I really ought to work on improving my narrative voices. I hope I didn't make him too ooc in this. T*T"**

**Chapter notes:**

**\- Hello again! Here we have a continuation of the same day, only this time it's from Hiccup's POV!**

**(on a separate note, I cannot believe I didn't even do nanowrimo and I still wrote and edited almost 30k words in 1 month. What the actual heck.)**

**\- More exploring and worldbuilding in this chapter! Woohoo!**

**\- I remember reading in some articles that the Indegenious people of the American continent are generationally prone to lactose intolerance and diabetes due to their diets consisting mainly of meats and vegetables. I realised that Vikings, having lived in northern climates where they'd probably have had diets consisting of similar food groups, would most likely be inclined towards the same thing. So in this story Hiccup is diabetic and lactose intolerant, as are some of the other vikings in his village.**

**Nessi is a creature whose scent and sweat glands produce a substance that, although technically a toxin towards her natural predators, has a similar chemical formula to the insulin that's produced in humans. The story will go into further detail about her and her features later on.**

**\- In this story I've made the age gap between Merida and her brothers a bit shorter than it is in canon. That is to say, while Merida is 10/11-ish years old her brothers are around 5 years old.**

**\- Instead of using a joke shop in this universe I've instead replaced it with something else because never in a thousand years would I dare to even think of disrespecting Fred and George by writing their shop, the culmination of their hopes and dreams, into my fanfiction without them being there to run it. No matter what worldbuilding or re-imagining or whatever else I do, there's a line I've drawn and I'm not crossing it.**

**(Hopefully I'll come back to this later and change the name of the shop into something better. I might even change the two characters who run that shop if or when I find suitable characters from an existing movie. For now I've made them original characters.)**

**\- If your curious, this chapter is exactly 18,354 words, the longest chapter I've written so far for this fanfiction. And this chapter doesn't even count as the longest chapter I have planned for Book 1 either lmao**

**I'll start writing sane chapter lengths just as soon as I'm writing a book that doesn't have switching POVs and where I'm not dedicated to making each chapter a different POV than the last. (in other words the next 4 books after this one)**

**\- At one point I wrote this chapter while listening to ****_Le Bal Des Chats_**** by Cécile Corbel**

* * *

In the shaded seclusion of The Grey Owl inn, Hiccup was enjoying a peaceful morning. A little to his side, a dusty patch of sunlight streamed in through the nearby window, illuminating a corner of the local wizarding newspaper that lay on the table before him and the brown-green scales of Nessi's back, who at that moment was sunbathing on his exposed forearm.

Earlier during breakfast the parents had announced that that day was a good one as any to go shopping for school supplies. The kids had thrown up a fuss, their parents had thrown up a bigger fuss, and eventually the whole fussy bundle had gone clamouring and yelling out the doors.

Through the careful art of staying out of the way and keeping his mouth shut, Hiccup had narrowly avoided the tragedy that was spending an entire morning being dragged everywhere by anxious and over-eager viking parents. He wasn't worried about his school supplies; one of the parents had brought along a sheaf of parchment papers that when he'd sneaked a look had included all of the required supplies allotted per child. Aside from the robes and the wand - which he already knew his father would take him out to buy separately - he was sure that they'd end up buying enough for all the kids including him, considering his list was in the pile too. Either one of the parents would hand him a bundle that'd been designated to him or, worst come to worst, as soon as they returned Hiccup would look for an opportunity, snatch whatever supplies he needed, and then hide them until they returned to the mansion and he could safely squirrel them away in his room. He'd done it often enough; he wasn't out of practice.

But those decisions were hours away. In the meantime Hiccup could do the crosswords and games on the back of the newspaper. Maybe later he'd even fit in a bit of solitary exploring. To him the inn was an interesting place simply for the fact that it was the first wizarding inn he'd ever been to, let alone the first establishment he'd gotten to visit outside of the mansion.

At least, that had been the original plan. But then things had taken a rather ... unexpected turn.

Before him sat a witch who called herself Rin. She was an employee at the inn and had been one of the people serving "the viking table" before. She'd stopped by after they'd left to clean up the cutlery, had seen Hiccup sitting all by himself at the table, and a few minutes later had returned minus one apron and carrying a cup of coffee and a newspaper of her own.

It was nice to sit in her company. She hadn't ask Hiccup any questions or even tried to talk to him when she'd first taken her seat so he'd felt comfortable enough to carry on doing whatever he'd been doing.

How he ended up eventually talking to her of his own accord was a question he didn't have an answer to.

"So when you say _Rin_, you go a little closer to touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth but not completely, okay?"

Hiccup tried to do it. "... Lin?"

"No, no. _Rin_."

"... Rin?"

"No, the 'R' sound is too hard in that. It's like- it's a sound that's somewhere between an 'L' and an 'R', you see. It sits in the middle of those two."

"Uh ..." In theory, Hiccup understood the concept. Somewhat. But the application of it was another issue. "... Rin."

Rin rested her chin on her palm. Her stare seemed to hold more consideration in it than the judgement Hiccup had half expected. "... Close enough. I'll take it."

"Well, you can't pronounce my name either."

"Truth. Too many consonants in that one. Why so many consonants in a language?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Meh. To each their own, I guess. Is this really your first time coming here?"

"Yes." Hiccup looked around curiously. He wondered how many times he'd have to visit this place to get the "new" feeling of it out of him. Or anywhere, really. "To be honest, it's my first time outside ever since coming here. I'd expected this place to be a little ... different."

"You mean you'd been expecting something like Diagon Alley?" Rin chuckled. Hiccup blushed, and seeing that made her laugh even more. "The street's been closed off for hundreds of years, you know. I think that old witch Rowan used that street in her stories just to avoid the copyrights ... she bent a whole lot of rules to make her stories work, come to think of it."

Though he hadn't technically done anything wrong, Hiccup couldn't help but feel embarrassed. In Berk there had been very few resources he could find pertaining to the magical communities of England. Most of his knowledge of the country was largely based around those famous wizarding children stories, so famous in fact that they'd somehow found their way to his remote village.

He knew those stories were fictional. But. _Still_. There had to be some measure of truth in them. That's what he'd reasoned.

On the surface of the table, a knot in the wood caught his eye. Hiccup traced his finger along the grain of it. "... I can at least reason that this street doesn't always look like this. With flowers and ribbons and all."

"No it doesn't. Lucky you, your lot came along just before The Summer Festival."

"What is that?" He asked, sitting up in his chair. Then he added, "if you don't mind my asking."

"My, how polite." Rin grinned. It had a tilt to it that made Hiccup wonder if she was teasing him. "Sure, I'll tell you. The Summer Festival lasts for five days in wizarding England and currently it's set to start exactly two days from now. If you want to compare it to anything, I would say it is something similar to golden week in Japan. During that time most of the salary workers get five days off or at the least workdays shortened to half-days. It's a time where families and communities get together to relax and have fun for a few days. Over here, the biggest celebrations happen on the four big streets. This street just so happens to go all out for these kinds of things."

"Do you know what the reason behind the festival is, if there is any? Is it based off of something?" Hiccup leaned forward, his foot bumping against the table leg.

"Hmm ..." Rin's fingernail tapped on the table. "... from what I've heard, I believe this festival is also called The Sun Festival. It goes back millions of years, perhaps even as far back as the great war - which you'll probably learn more about in school I think, so don't ask me about that. It is essentially supposed to be a celebration towards the coming of new life - or harvest, I guess, I don't know - and a change in the seasons. There is also a Moon Festival some time in March. It's more of a thing that is celebrated in central Europe and is less well known, but it exists. I don't know what it's about or how it relates to the Sun Festival."

Hiccup turned the information over in his head. He also made a mental note to look up more about the notable festivals and legends.

"It sounds really nice. I don't know if my group will be staying long enough to experience it; we just came here to get school supplies. But maybe I'll get lucky and they'll hear about it today and we can stay longer." He doubted it, but it wouldn't hurt him any to say it.

"If you do, feel free to stop by my booth. It'll be a few doors down from here and I'll be selling charms and trinkets and such."

"Do you make them yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Reaching into her trousers' pocket, Rin pulled out a charm and held it aloft between them. It was made of a light, clear blue stone, the colour like that of warm oceans that he had only ever seen pictures of. It looked like a dangling necklace that had been fashioned into something pocket sized. One of the stones was shaped into a little dolphin, and above and below it there hung different sized spheres of the same stone.

"The stone is called Aquamarine, part of the Beryl family of stones, and this charm is a good luck charm. I crafted the stone and cast the charm over it - both easy to do - and the total cost starts at 10 Knuts for one of these beauties. A bargain, if I do say so myself."

Hiccup stared at it, enthralled. It really was a clever bit of magic - detailed and dainty and sparking in the sunbeam that shot through it. He hoped someday he could make something as skilled as that.

"It's really pretty!" He said.

Rin beamed, happy and sincere. "Aw, thank you."

From behind her, there came a sudden burst of children's laughter.

Hiccup craned his head to see better. "What's going on there?"

Without looking, Rin jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the door. "If you go out there right now, you'll see Missus Hawkins' boy Jim helping out with the last of this week's incoming shipments. They're all for the bookshop across the square, for a doctor friend of theirs who runs it. That kind of thing is more than enough to get curious little children running to it. Like ants to candy. You might also meet the girls, so best be careful."

"Who're the girls?"

"The doctor's kids. Technically there are four of them, but the boy's a shy one and I don't know where he's hiding. You've got a better chance of his sisters finding you than you finding him - which, if that does happen, you'll want to consider running. But then again ..." Rin twirled the chain, the light coming through it scattering, "... they say good things come in threes. Bad things do too."

From the doorway, Hiccup heard more shrieking laughter.

"... How do you know which is which?" He asked.

"Circumstance."

She wasn't looking at him anymore. Her eyes instead watched the charm, face contemplative.

She laid it down in front of Hiccup. "Tell you what. I'll give this to you for free, just this once."

Hiccup stared at the charm. He stared up at her. "Why?"

"Call it free promotion. Do what you want with it." Rin waved her hand to it idly. "Maybe it'll help you."

She was nonchalant when she said that. At ease. She sat back in her chair like she didn't mind whether he accepted her charm or not. His fingers hesitated, but in the end he reached out and took it.

"... Thank you." He held the smooth, polished stones, felt them slide against his fingers. It was oddly soothing.

"You're welcome."

Hiccup decided he'd spent enough time downstairs and that that was his cue to leave. It was about time he got to his exploring anyways. From what he guessed, there were at least three floors to cover. And after he was done with that perhaps he would find a quiet corner to seclude himself in. He might even come across some charcoal lying around and then he could spend the rest of the day drawing.

But first he made absolute sure to drain the last of his carrot juice. He tucked away the folded newspaper and the charm into one trouser pocket, a sleepy Nessi into another, said goodbye to Rin, and left.

Hiccup climbed the stairs that lined the far wall of the inn. As he crossed over to the first floor there came faint shouting from the other end of the narrow hallway. Whoever the voice belonged to sounded furious.

Thinking nothing of it, Hiccup turned a corner to the next flight of stairs. His foot hadn't landed on the first step when he was met with a small, sturdy body barrelling into him.

"Wha-!"

"Ack!"

That one body become three as Hiccup stumbled backwards, arms flailing for balance. But the momentum was too much and they all tumbled together in one confused tangle.

A few painful seconds later and the ringing in his ears faded away. Hiccup rubbed the back of his head and sat up, mumbling apologies as he went. But when he looked up at his assailant he had to blink. And wonder how hard he'd hit his head.

Sitting before him was a boy with a shock of curly orange hair over a face full of freckles and two others who looked exactly like him.

"Uhhh ..." Hiccup struggled to find words. "I ... I might be mistaken, but are there three of you?"

The one closest to him looked around, then back at Hiccup. "Yah, I sure hope so. We're triplets." He stood up and the others did too. "Harris, Hubert, and Hamish." He pointed to himself and his brothers.

Hiccup couldn't believe his ears. In his village there had only been two sets of twins, one pair being so old and filled with wrinkles that they looked the same anyways and the other two being brother and sister. This was the first time he was seeing triplets in the flesh. It was almost disturbing how closely they resembled each other.

Carefully Hiccup got to his feet, one hand slipping into his pocket to check on Nessi. "My name's Hiccup. Sorry for bumping into you earlier."

Instead of apologising himself, Harris giggled. Nevertheless he held out his hand. "Strange name, but we've heard stranger. It's nice ta meet'cha."

The kids were so much shorter than him that Hiccup had to slouch to shake their hands. Another shout echoed from down the hallway, this one shrill.

"Do you know what's going on over there?" Hiccup asked.

"That's our sister. She's having a blazing row right now with our parents. You don't want to go there." Said the triplet that wasn't Harris. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. "Say, are you busy right now?"

And Hiccup, like a true genius, didn't think before he opened his mouth. "No?"

"Great." Suddenly Hiccup realised he was surrounded by three little faces staring up at him with eager eyes and strong intent.

"This'll be good."

"You look fun."

"Yeah, we can take you."

Hiccup stared, bewildered. "What? What? I don't- urk!" The breath left him as one of the triplets reached up and looped his arms tight around Hiccup's neck. The extra weight made Hiccup bend down until the boy's face was so close their noses almost touched.

"You're gonna come play with us." He grinned before he kissed Hiccup's cheek. Then a tiny, booted foot met Hiccup's gut as he climbed around and somehow situated himself onto Hiccup's back. "Onward, my steed! Let's go!"

The other two grabbed an arm each and as one they went clambering down the steps, shouting and hooting the whole way. It was all Hiccup could do to not tangle his feet together and fall to his death.

He didn't notice where they were going until he heard doors bang open and the onslaught of sunlight made everything go blurry. Noise came from everywhere at once and for a moment the smell of sun-baked cobblestone was so strong he could taste it.

Hiccup pitched forward as the boy jumped off of him. All three of them were shrieking and laughing and running. But before he could fall two big hands caught his shoulders and he instead went stumbling into someone.

"Steady there." A voice said above him. It was husky, with soft callouses lined around its edges.

The voice became sharp and snapped something at the other boys as Hiccup pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to rub the blindness away.

The light evened out. Hiccup blinked a few times until he could see again. He stared up at a man who was surprisingly young; he couldn't have been more than ten years older than Hiccup, only a faint trail of stubble scattered along his jaw. The few strands of hair that escaped his ponytail brushed against his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed beneath them.

"You alright, kid?" He asked.

Hiccup realised the man still held his shoulders. He quickly stepped away. "I'm fine now. Thank you." He said.

Immediately, the man brightened up. His smile made his eyes crinkle up at the corners. "Glad to hear it. If that's all, I'll be going now." He gave a quick ruffle to Hiccup's hair. Then he picked up a small stack of crates that'd been sitting at his feet and walked away.

With him gone Hiccup saw where the crates had come from. In front of him there stood an entire pile of crates and boxes and who-knew-what-else stacked about half as tall as the inn itself. Part of it was covered by thick canvas cloth while the rest showed an assortment of crates in different sizes.

As he stepped closer he saw that a few boxes near the edges had been left uncovered. Peeking into one showed him a stack of leather-bound books, some of them with gold filigree around the edges. Hiccup wandered a little further to find another open crate, this one containing an odd, bulky instrument made of brass knobs and packed in with dry hay.

But what really drew his attention was the quiet snuffling that came from behind a cluster of barrels. That's where he found the most curious thing he'd seen yet. Curled up in a wooden cage that brushed his waist was an animal. A decidedly magical one.

Breath held, Hiccup stepped closer. It looked feline, its fur the colour of yellow sand and covered in black splotches. One of its huge, black-tipped ears twitched and it opened its eyes to stare out at Hiccup with bright violet irises. It yawned and revealed a big, wide mouth full of sharp teeth.

Hiccup was entranced. He'd never seen anything like this, not in books or with his own eyes. It was all he could do not to reach into the cage and give the creature a pet. Mentally, he began to catalogue its features to look up later.

He was so focused that he didn't hear the giggling at first. He didn't get out of his thoughts until there came a distinct wooden creak from behind. It was followed by a flurry of shushing that entirely defeated the purpose of shushing.

The only reason he picked all that up in the general noise of the mid-morning foot traffic was because the huge pile of strange things crowded him next to the inn's wall and managed to muffle out some of the sounds that came from the street. Aside from him and the creature he crouched next to, there didn't appear to be anyone else on his side of the pile of shipments.

And still he heard the giggling.

Hiccup stood and brushed his trousers off. He followed the sounds until he peeked around the barrels and saw a small huddle of children. There were three of them, all the same height and build. All with short auburn hair that bobbed just under their ears. From what he could tell they were gathered around something that made them alternate between giggling and breaking out into a flurry of whispers. What was so interesting about what they were looking at? What were they doing?

"What are you doing?"

As one the three girls jumped.

Hiccup snapped his mouth shut. He had _not_ planned to say that out loud.

Slowly, they turned to face him and Hiccup felt his stomach drop further. All three girls looked exactly the same.

They shared the same pointed features - high cheekbones, pert nose, sharp chin. Each one of them stared at him with clever, calculating eyes that made him feel like they were picking out all the secrets he didn't know he had.

Now that they'd turned around Hiccup got a glimpse of what they'd been so absorbed in. Behind them was a small cage with wire-mesh walls balanced on a stack of boxes and opened at the top. It contained a soft mess of tiny pink and purple shapes moving around in it. One of the girls in front of him held a small handful of them, looking like pink balls of sheep fluff in her palm and partially shielded by her fingers.

The girl caught his staring and drew her chin up.

"What's it to you?" It was supposed to be a question, but it was spoken as a demand.

Hiccup opened and closed his mouth. He didn't really have an answer to that.

He didn't know them. What they were up to was none of his business. He could leave right then and it wouldn't effect any of them.

And even if they were messing around with something they shouldn't, so what? What did it matter to him? He wasn't normally in the habit of doing random acts of good or anything.

Hiccup put his hands partially up and made to back away. "Sorry ... I was just, passing by. Uh, I ... I'll just ... go. Yeah." _Gods_, could he sound anymore awkward?

He couldn't bring himself to see their faces. Instead he kept his eyes focused on the pink fluffs. It was why he caught what happened next in perfect detail.

Without warning one of the fluffs jumped. It arced high into the air.

He watched it go. The children also watched it go.

Hiccup didn't register where it was headed until it was almost too late. His eyes widened and he yelped, hands flying up over his face a near _second_ before the creature hit.

Tiny limbs attached to his finger. Hiccup slowly opened his eyes and stared.

It really did resemble a coloured bit of sheep wool, now that he got a better look. Well, aside from the thin limbs that he only knew the existence of because he felt them tickle his skin while the thing crawled onto his palm. As it gave a little shiver something clicked inside Hiccup's head.

"Oh. _Oh._" Hiccup held it closer. "I know this! It's a Pygmy Puff, right?"

The girls stared at him. One had her mouth agape.

"... How do you know that?" The girl in the middle asked.

Looking back, he really should've run right then. Just chucked the Puff in their general direction and high-tailed it out of there. But did he do that? Of course not. Instead of survival instincts or anything useful, the only thing he was focused on was the new little creature sitting in his hands and his unfortunate impulse to talk about it.

"Oh I read about them in a book. They're really interesting, actually. Not just their physical and magical characteristics, but how they adapt to survive in their native environment. There are so many details, about themselves, their habits, their diets, their natural ... predators ..."

Hiccup hadn't noticed the three girls draw closer the longer he spoke. Now he did.

"Hey, I have a question." The same girl said. She lifted her hands to Hiccup's.

With mounting dread, Hiccup obliged her and let the Pygmy Puff crawl off to rejoin its brethren. "What is it?"

"What's your name?"

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, or Hiccup, if you prefer."

"Say, Hiccup, are you free right now?"

Hiccup had heard that question not even half an hour ago. He saw that the wide eyes before him had taken a sudden shine to them.

Great. Just great.

Feeling much like a string puppet trapped in a skit, Hiccup said the next intelligent thing he could come up with. "... Why do you ask?"

The triplets glanced at each other and grinned.

"Weeeell, if you're not busy-"

"-then you could come along-"

"-and play with us."

They each took a turn, the synchronisation mildly disturbing. As one voice they spoke. "Will you?"

Hiccup backed up. They stepped closer.

"Can't- can't you ask someone else?"

The girl in the middle shook her head. "Not really. Everyone else is _so_ busy with the festival. No one has any time for us."

"It's so boring." Her sister said.

"It is."

"That's why we need you." She stood on her toes, grin sharp enough to cut. "So come play with us."

Hiccup gulped. He knew then and there that if he said yes they'd run him into the ground before noon. And he had far too much experience with that.

Unbidden, Rin's voice echoed in his head.

_They say good things come in threes._ It said. _Bad things do too._

Speaking of which ...

Not taking his eyes off of them, his hand wandered into his pocket. His fingers met a smooth surface. Even after staying in his pocket for so long the charm still felt pleasantly cool to the touch.

"What if ..." he said, an idea forming in his head. "... what if we made a deal?"

The girl in the middle tilted her head. The few Pygmy Puffs that had crawled onto her hair bounced. "What kind of deal?"

Hiccup was, by nature, strategic. He made up for his lack of height and muscle with smarts. It's what he used to keep his ill begotten injuries to a minimum, what he needed to escape the clutches of bullies.

At his feet he saw several paths laid out, each one leading to a different outcome. What path he chose would determine how exactly the charm he had would end up benefiting him. Most of those options involved him spinning a story that would distract the three sisters long enough for him to escape.

But the lump stuck in his throat, the sweat on his palms, and the three pairs of ever sharp, ever watchful eyes that refused to leave his face told him that if he even _tried_ anything sneaky he would fail. Miserably.

There really was only one thing left for him to do.

From out of his pocket Hiccup pulled out the charm. Just as Rin had done earlier, Hiccup held it up to a shaft of light that made the charm throw fractured rainbows of colour everywhere. And just as he had done before, the three girls stared at it with obvious awe. The way their eyes went round and reflected the colours somehow reminded him of three human-sized cats. He half wondered if he'd looked something like that.

"... You like it?" He finally asked.

The girl to his left leaned a touch closer. "It's _beautiful_." She breathed.

"Where'd you get it?"

"What's it do?"

"It's a charm that I got from someone." Hiccup moved the charm a little to the side. The girls' heads followed. "It's supposed to be useful. I can give it to you."

The girl on the left immediately reached her hand up. Her sister smacked it down. Readjusting the Pygmy Puffs that had settled onto her shoulders, she fixed Hiccup with a squinty-eyed glare.

"For what?" She asked. She hadn't missed him saying that this was a "deal".

_So she's the leader,_ he thought.

Hiccup knew how this worked. He hadn't paid a knut for the charm but these kids thought he was out to sell it because they were blood-sucking little buggers who put a price on everything. Long experience dealing with kids like them had taught him this much at least.

But did they honestly expect him to take money from children? Really? Aha, no, he wasn't doing that.

"I'll give this to you if you give me something too. A trade for a trade." Because otherwise they wouldn't leave if he just gave it away. At that point he'd accept a chewing gum foil from them and be done with it.

"Hm." The girls glanced between each other, a silent conversation held amongst them. The girl to Hiccup's right raised her eyebrows. Her sister in the middle pursed her lips. Then she gave a short nod and her sister bent down.

When she came up again she held a thin bootlace in her outstretched hand. "Will this be enough?"

Shifting the charm to his other hand, Hiccup took the bootlace. It was pink, sparkly, and at least twice the length of his arm. When he pulled on it he found it to be stretchy and only a little worn. At least it was practical. He could work with that.

Hiccup made sure to study the string a little longer to make it look like he was thinking hard. When he could feel them getting impatient he finally nodded and held the charm out.

"It's all yours."

He hadn't finished talking before the girl on the left snatched it out of his hand and ran away shrieking. Her sisters yelled and chased after her. He watched them go around the corner of the inn and then they were gone.

Hiccup was finally alone. He was safe.

He had to get out of there fast. Time was of the essence, after all. But first, he had to, _had to_, take a few quick seconds to pet the remaining Pygmy Puffs. Yes it was that important.

When he deemed enough time had passed he closed their cage. Then he skirted around the pile and back to the street side.

The street was just as crowded as he'd feared. There were probably more people walking through the square than there were people in his village. It all looked so confusing up close. Hiccup would've been much more comfortable observing it all from somewhere far, preferably from above. Not right along the edges of it while he tried his best to scoot along as close the shipments as possible. The only good thing about that was that most of the bigger people and adults seemed as keen to keep a wide berth around the shipments as he was to keep away from them. The fact that he didn't go tripping face-first into the road over a cage of sleeping fire drakes was an honest miracle.

He had every intention of somehow finding his way back inside the inn and seeking out a quiet corner to hide in. He would do his wandering later, when he'd had some time to close his eyes and catch his breath.

Hiccup did not consider himself an overtly adventurous sort. He did not take risks. He planned things out carefully and then he executed them. He had planned for a relaxing, quiet day where no one and nothing would bother him and he could do whatever he wanted, which was an uncommon rarity in his world. He had already filled out that day's quota of adventure and he was more than happy to leave to that way, thank you.

Hiccup was jarred out of his thoughts when a crate crashed right where his feet would've been.

"Ah, dammit."

It was the man from earlier, only this time Hiccup saw he had someone else with him. Said person was currently laughing.

The man dusted off his hands and scowled. "Shut it, Wiggens."

His friend rolled his eyes. "Jim, come on. If you weren't in such a hurry to get this done then that wouldn't have happened." He put down his own load and walked over to them. "Here, I'll help."

_Wait, __Jim?_ Hiccup looked up at the man, the one who'd caught him before. His memory resurfaced and told him where he'd last heard that name. Ah. So this was Jim Hawkins.

Neither of them had noticed Hiccup yet. They were both busy with picking up the contents of the crate, one of which happened to be a bulky parcel covered in a rough cloth bag. While the other man went about picking up spilled items from the ground, Jim was trying his best to keep the contents of the bag contained.

"If I had something to tie it with ..." he muttered.

His friend looked up briefly. "Can't you just fix it with your wand?"

"Well, see, Ted, earlier I'd put my wand away so the kids here wouldn't nick it and mess around with it. How about you give it a try?"

"I would but I kept my wand in my jacket and my jacket's inside."

"Splendid."

Hiccup watched them for a moment. Then he looked down at his hands, at what he still held, and suddenly wanted to slap himself.

"Oh. Oh, right." _How had he forgotten?_

Hiccup went up to Jim and held the bootlace out. "Will this help?"

Jim stared blankly at him. Then he saw the bootlace and he broke out into a wide smile. "It's perfect. It'll work great."

He took the bootlace and with deft fingers he tied it around the bundle, securing it tight. He placed it in the crate that his friend, apparently called Ted, held out.

Ted peered into the crate. He looked up at Jim. "... so. You're just going to take that?"

"What?"

"What the kid gave you."

Jim shrugged. "He's the one who offered."

"Mate, you can't just take things from kids. You've gotta ..." He glanced between the bundle and Hiccup, his forehead wrinkled as he thought.

Then his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Hang on." Reaching behind Jim's head, he removed a hair clip and held it out to Hiccup. "How's this?"

"Uhh ... thanks?" Hiccup hadn't really thought about getting anything, to be honest. But he accepted the clip even as Jim sent a deadpan stare.

"Ted, why."

Ted merely waved him off. "You already have enough in there, princess. You'll be fine."

Hiccup was about to walk away when Ted grabbed his shoulder. "Now hang on a second, kid."

"... can I help you?" Hiccup asked, at a loss.

Instead of an answer, Ted stared into Hiccup's face like it had the fate of his immediate future printed on it. Then he gave a decisive nod.

He pointed at Hiccup. "You. Stay put."

Hiccup and Jim watched as Ted went inside. He came back out with a jacket in one hand and a book in the other.

He handed the book to Hiccup. "Okay, listen, kid. Would you mind doing me a little favour and running to the bookshop over there real quick to give this book to a friend of mine? The place is right across the square and her name's Audrey."

Behind him Jim shook his head. "Really? Did you get into a row with her again? Just go over there yourself and apologise to your girlfriend, man."

"No no, see, you don't understand. For this kind of thing to work it's better when a little kid goes and soothes the waters a little bit. I have a plan, you see." The two went about ignoring Hiccup like he wasn't there.

Hiccup was about to interrupt them and return the book when they all heard a loud crash followed by screams.

"GET OUT THE WAAAAY-"

From out of the pile of shipments three familiar orange-haired boys had somehow opened up the cage of now wide awake and flaming fire drakes. The boys ran as the creatures began to swarm into the street. Some took to the air and the nearest people screamed louder.

One such drake flew right at them. Ted dropped his jacket.

"OH _SHI-"_

"WATCH OUT!"

Jim grabbed them both and made them duck as it went swooping over their heads.

"Ted! Get out there and do damage control! I'm getting my wand!" Jim sprinted one way and Ted went the other.

And Hiccup was left to stand there with a book and a task he didn't want.

This day just couldn't get any better, could it?

* * *

The crowds were treacherous but Hiccup battled through them. He didn't know how but he did.

(Earlier he'd been sorely tempted to throw the book. Or just leave it on one of the crates and let someone else deal with it. But then he'd seen where Ted had stood casting stunning spells and ice nets. He'd seen the contained chaos of their corner of the square and had known without a doubt that the book would very likely get lost. The thought had made an uncomfortable knot of guilt squirm in his gut.

Sometimes he regretted possessing human emotions.)

At least Ted had been right when he'd said the bookshop was right across the square. After Hiccup had asked someone else for better directions he'd gone dodging his way through the passerby's until he'd passed the statue and reached the opposite side, searching for a large building that had a sign with 'Bookshop' in its title ("It's big and printed in red, ya can't miss it."). He found it and allowed himself to be swept along by the flow of people.

The inside of the shop was a cacophony of voices all competing to be louder than the others. It didn't help that almost everyone there was bigger than him. But he quickly found the front desk right near the entrance so that's where he went.

Hiccup pushed up to the counter and stood on his toes. "Hello?" He asked.

He had to repeat himself a couple times before the man sitting behind it noticed him.

"What do you want kid?"

"Do you know where someone named Audrey is? I'm supposed to give this to her." Hiccup placed the book on the counter. He half hoped the man would just take it and pass it along for him.

The man took a quick look at the front cover. "Ah, yeah, it's this one. Hold on a second." He got to his feet and yanked open a flimsy looking door squashed between two cluttered shelves. "Oi, Audrey!"

From within they heard a muffled voice. "What?!"

"Yah got a secret admirer! He's come to say hi!"

"Can't you deal with him?! I'm _busy!"_

He did no such thing. Instead he made Hiccup go around the counter and shepherded him to the entrance.

_And there goes that hope._ Hiccup internally sighed.

Book clutched to his chest, he made his way inside. The space that greeted him was in a way similar to the main area of the shop: large and cramped. But where the chaos outside was a breathing and moving entity, this one was still and silent. A slow, slumbering beast with dried ink for blood and a crumbling hide made of parchment and old leather.

The place was filled with an unorganised mix of items both new and old; which one was which was impossible to say. The air in there smelled of dust, frayed paper, and a faint trace of something either spicy or burnt. Hiccup sneezed.

Between towering stacks of books, sagging brown boxes, and the odd bit of furniture, Hiccup wandered through it all. In the very heart of it he stumbled upon a young woman. She stood in the eye of a gentle flurry of books that she directed through the air, her wand moving with the grace of a conductor's baton. Long sheets of copper hair fell down her back and when she turned Hiccup saw clear blue eyes catch sight of him.

"Ah, so you're the secret admirer. At least you're cute." At her command, the books settled down. She crossed over to him. "What do you have for me, kiddo?"

Hiccup felt his face heat up; it was one of the few times someone had ever called him "cute" and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He wasn't even sure if she meant it or if she was just saying that. Suddenly left flustered and awkward, he avoided eye contact and held the book out, elbows locked.

"I was told to give this to you." He said.

She took the book and saw its cover. "... So that's how he wants to apologise. Oh well." With a shake of her head, she tossed it into a nearby box. It made a few strands of hair fall in front of her face and she blew them away.

In spite of himself, Hiccup peered at the box. It was dilapidated and small enough to fill his arms.

The books he could partially see the titles of made him curious. Books of any sort always did.

"You want to read them?" Hiccup jerked his head up when Audrey spoke. Whatever look he had on his face made her grin. "You can if you want to."

"Are you ... are you sure?" He had to ask, just in case.

"Absolutely." Audrey waved a hand to the box then went back to where she's been standing. A few of the scattered books rose up from the ground and drifted to one of the higher stacks.

With that clear invitation, Hiccup walked over to the box and plopped down on the thin rug. He removed the books one by one and took care to properly read the front and back of each cover.

There appeared to be seven books in total. One was a miniature atlas, two of them were spell books - one with a pale red cover about "unusual and useful" household spells and a dull purple one concerning various hexes and counter-hexes. One thick tome with dark blue binding and peeling silver letters was about the crafting and properties of magical stones and amulets. An especially worn book with a brown leather cover seemed to be some kind of diary written by a witch who had travelled to other countries.

Hiccup set the others aside and opened that one first. The pages were filled with diagrams and detailed notes, ranging from scenery and mega-fauna to talisman carvings and sewing patterns. There were scribbles in the margins and additional bits of paper pasted in and sticking out and it made the book bulge in the middle. The first few pages started off with the witch journeying north and sailing out into the sea. His eyes took in a drawing of a mountain range. High above it was sketched a flying dragon, its silhouette tiny and out of reach.

"... You know, where I come from there're hardly any books." Hiccup said, reading the words written under the drawing.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Most of the time people are busy with things like protecting and keeping watch around the boarders of the village, training for combat, or doing practical things that help keep the village running, like repairs, blacksmithing, fishing ... things like that."

"Let me guess," the sound of rustling parchment sounded as more books flew by, "reading doesn't count as something "practical"."

"No, not really. The only place I know of that has at least ten books sitting together is our village Healer's hut. If I want to read more books than that I have to go down to the nearest muggle town, and none of the books there are magical." Hiccup sifted through more of the pages. "... This is amazing."

"If you're into this kind of thing, I'm sure it is."

Hiccup glanced up briefly to see Audrey give him a wane smile. He looked down again. "... And you're not?"

"Oh, I like it well enough," she sighed, "but at the end of the day it's just a part time job. I'd rather spend my time outdoors. I mean, sometimes fun things do happen here. Like this fight that happened out in the shop earlier, you missed it by like half an hour. Now _that_ was exciting. It gave us a mess and we had to clean it but it was still exciting."

Hiccup disagreed but he didn't say so. As it was there were more books in that room than he'd ever had the privilege to see in one place. If he had his way he'd spend as many hours as it took to read through all of them. It was quiet and peaceful in there and no one would likely bother him. It felt perfect.

But he knew that such a thing was not feasible or practical for him. Forget spending hours and hours there, he hadn't even brought anything to eat with him so either he'd have to go back to the inn in time for lunch or he'd have to concede to stay there and watch himself die the most pitiful and preventable death imaginable.

Hiccup closed the book. His fingers traced over the black letters stamped into the cover. "... I have a question."

"Tell me."

"What are these books for?"

"Oh, they need to be thrown out."

Hiccup's head shot up so fast his neck cracked.

"What? Why?"

Audrey gave him a blank look. "What? You thought those things were put in here to be sold? Why else would they be here?"

"Well, I, I don't _know_, but ..." Hiccup held up the book, "... why?"

With a deft flick of her wand, Audrey let the remaining books settle. She walked over to him and crouched down. "There are various reasons, you see. Some of these are considered outdated. People come here to buy newer and flashier things; books like these will just not sell," Audrey pulled out the two books about spells, "some others have merely gone shabby through wear and tear, whether by humans or thanks to other books, and are no longer fit to stay on the shelves - by the way, you're lucky that one still has all its pages," she pointed to the book Hiccup still clutched, "and a few of them are misbehaving which means they wouldn't have sold anyways."

"Misbehaving?"

Audrey shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Not _dangerous_, per se. Just ... not acting as they should."

Hiccup took a furtive glance at some of the books he hadn't touched yet. His hands itched to pick them up. He balled them into fists.

Back home there was no such thing as wastage. No matter what it was, every single thing was used. If it broke then it was mended, and if it was no longer fit for its intended purpose then it was re-purposed for another.

To see things that were a rarity where he came from put away for the sake of being thrown out ... it seemed like a waste.

Hiccup's eyes trailed back to Audrey. She seemed nice enough. She'd even let him stay and read the books. Maybe she'd listen.

He gulped and took a chance. "If ... if these are just going to be thrown out then ... could I have them instead?"

Audrey didn't get angry. She didn't get happy either. Instead she crossed her arms and arched a sceptical eyebrow at him.

"Not that I would mind, but my question here is: how do you think you're going to carry them? Or are you planning on taking only one or two?"

"No! I want to take all of them- okay, not _all_ of them, maybe, but perhaps more than two. I ... I'll ..." Hiccup frowned down at his hands. That was a good question. He'd come to the shop with no bag or anything else of the sort on him. He wouldn't even be able to fit one of them into the pockets of his trousers let alone all of them. If he did decide to carry the entire box, how would he make it all the way to the inn without the entire thing collapsing? With the crowds outside?

"Come now, don't look so sad." Audrey's finger tapped his chin. "Chin up! There is hope yet."

Hiccup scowled at her. "How?"

She stood up. "Tell you what. I think I might have something to help you."

Going to a nearby stack of boxes, Audrey picked up a messenger bag. She dug around in it and after a moment her face brightened up. She pulled something out and showed it to Hiccup.

It appeared to be a small, knitted bag. "This is something I made a few years ago and charmed myself. The spells I used were simple and this pouch is old but I think it should still have enough life left in it to help you with those books."

Hiccup stared at it. He jumped up and ran over to her.

"Are you giving that to me?" He asked.

Audrey grinned.

"I would, but that would mean I'd have to sell it to you ..." She dangled the bag from its strings, "... or, if you want to ... you could do a teeny, _tiny_ favour for me."

"I'll do it."

Audrey blinked down at him. "What."

"I said I'll do it."

"You haven't even heard what it is yet."

Hiccup shrugged. "I'm a kid. There's only so much I can do. You look reasonable enough. I don't think you're going to give me anything terribly important. I mean what's the worst you can do? Tell me to slay a dragon?"

Audrey burst out laughing at that. "No, no, none of that. Don't worry. Alright then, if you're so keen I'll show you."

She led him outside to the front desk. From one of the drawers she removed a folded letter.

"I want you to take this to a shop and give it to the owners there - it's just a little outside the square, on the main road. And once you do that you can come back here and the bag and the books are all yours. What do you say?"

She tilted her head down to him. It made some of the hair slip out from behind her ear and fall in front of her face. She saw it and sighed. "My blasted hair."

While she tugged at it and cursed under her breath, Hiccup tucked the letter away and pulled out the clip he'd gotten earlier.

"Here, have this." He held it out to her.

"Oh- oh, why thank you." She took it. In one hand she tugged the fly-aways back and with the other she made a practiced jab of the hair clip and embedded it into the thick mass of hair. She flipped it over her shoulder and smiled.

"Ah, so much better! I think I'd better braid my hair later. Oh, waitwaitwait, before you go-" she dragged Hiccup back before he could duck past the counter. Next thing Hiccup knew she'd grabbed hold of his hand and stuck something in it. "-take this."

Hiccup stared at it. "What _is_ it?"

"Can't you tell? It's a lollipop, a sweet."

A sweet. Hiccup was supposed to believe it was some kind of sweet, this thing he held. It was pink and white and so big he was sure it was the size of his face. The pink and white were two separate strands that originated from the centre of a flat circle and twisted and spiralled around each other on their way out.

Don't get him wrong; Hiccup knew enough to have seen a lollipop before. When he'd go to the muggle town he'd sometimes see them in advertisements or in shop windows. But those had usually come in sensible flavours like blueberry or butterscotch and actually looked like they were supposed to fit inside people's mouths. Unlike this monstrosity.

"Am I supposed to eat this? I'm not eating this." He tried to give it back to her but she lifted the jar she'd gotten it from out of reach.

"Sorry, kiddo. You're stuck with that now. We ordered so many of them for the festival and now they're everywhere. They're hurting my eyes. If you want to eat it or not eat it or throw it away - that's up to you. You can do whatever you want. Just take it."

Hiccup scowled. She didn't back down. So he did the next best thing and stomped out the door with as much dignity as he could muster.

Somehow the crowds outside seemed even more excited than they'd been before. From what he could tell there were no screams or flames in the air, so it wasn't any stray fire drakes causing it.

Hiccup made like a good little midget and kept to the fringes of the crowd, sticking close to the buildings. According to the letter the place he was supposed to deliver it to was called "Fantasia". It did not, however, give him much in the way of any concrete directions to get there. He sighed.

Taking in his immediate surroundings, he saw someone directly ahead of him that gave him pause. She was a petite, young-ish looking woman who wore strange garb that up until then he had not seen on a person; garments that were ripped in several places and had a colour scheme of white and blue. Her black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that had strands poking out of it everywhere. She leaned against the wall and stood biting her nail.

Not his first choice for an information source but he'd take it.

Hiccup went up to her and tapped her elbow. "Hello? Can I ask you a question?"

The woman startled. Her eyes searched for the voice until they wandered down and landed on Hiccup.

"... did you- were you talking to me?" She pointed to herself and Hiccup nodded. In the back of his head he registered that her accent sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yes. I wish to ask you a question, please."

"Uh, sure, okay. What is it?"

Hiccup pulled out the letter. "Do you know where this shop is and what it looks like? I'm trying to get there."

She read the printed words and her eyes lit up. "Oh! I saw this earlier. You've gotta go past this main square and then once you do you'll see it on the left after two more shops. The sign is huge. It's big and flashy, all up in your face, you know? You're already on the right side of the road - I mean, on the left side - so don't cross the street, okay? You got all that?"

"Out the square, past two shops, big sign on the left."

"Exactly." She handed the letter back to him. Then she paused.

Hiccup watched as her face went through a rapid succession of emotions before it settled on elated. Her hand shot out and snatched the lollipop Hiccup had almost forgotten about.

"Oh my god. _Oh my god!_ That's it! That's perfect!"

Hiccup stepped back, utterly bewildered. The witch spun around waving the lollipop in the air. Her movements were erratic, coming out in pops and jerks. She muttered a stream of gibberish that she didn't seem aware was coming out of her mouth.

All at once she turned to fix Hiccup with shining eyes. "Can I take this?"

"I- what-"

"Wait, no, of course not." Her face scrunched up. "Why did I ask that? I can't just _take_ it. Why would I go robbing a kid of his candy, I mean who even _does_ that? Oh my god, Vanellope, get it together."

"What-"

"Okay, wait, hang on. I've got it." She dug around in her pockets until she emitted a triumphant cry and pulled out a wand.

She shoved that wand into Hiccup's hands. "You can take this."

"Wait- why-?"

"Can't-talk-gotta-go-bye!" And then she was gone.

Hiccup was left standing on the cobblestones holding the wand and blinking at nothing.

... What? _What?_

What was that? _Who_ was that? Had some witch really given him her wand? All for a sweet? Did she want it back? What had any of that been about? What was he supposed to do? What-

Hiccup shook his head. No, he wasn't going to overthink this. He had to stay calm.

He took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. First off, none of those questions mattered. The witch was long gone and he could never hope to find her again. Second of all, he wasn't obligated to do anything. He had his task to do, he'd get it done, and then he'd go back to the shop. And if the witch had wanted him to do anything she should've told him so instead of running off. The best he could do with the wand was drop it off somewhere so that maybe an adult could deal with it and he wouldn't have to do it himself.

Hiccup pocketed the wand - in the pocket that did not have Nessi. Just in case. Then he continued on.

As soon as he exited the main square he went inside the first shop on his left and confirmed the directions he'd been told. Turned out the witch had been right. After going past the next shop he clearly saw a sign that had _Fantasia: The Realm of Curiosities and Wonders_ scrawled above it in paint that had been spelled to periodically flash different colours.

On the wide display window a colourful advertisement had been put up.

_"Enter one and all! Enter a world where curiosities and wonders abound! In celebration of our opening week we shall be hosting shows of magical skill and fantastic illusions at 12pm and 4pm. If you are lucky you might be given a chance to win a marvellous prize! From now until the end of The Summer Festival all items will be sold at half price, so come join the fun before we sell out!_

According to an intricately detailed clock that hung behind the glass, the time had just reached 11 am. Past it Hiccup saw a brightly lit interior. Whatever section of the shop he was looking at didn't appear to have any customers.

Good. All the better for him to get this done sooner.

Letter clutched in one hand, Hiccup pushed open the door. He was met first thing with a rotating display bristling with colourful, feathery things that he couldn't identify. Tilting his head back, he saw a sign dangling above them that read, "Tickling Feather Boas! Give them to your friends and family and have a laugh!"

A display rack to his right had baskets of clear little spheres about half the size of his hand that upon closer inspection were filled with twinkling lights ("Illusion in a Bubble! Break one open to experience a surprise illusion!") while another had boxes of cubed jellies in different colours ("Swallow a jelly and you too will sing with the voice of your favourite singer!")

Within minutes he'd wandered into the racks with no thoughts of wanting to come out anytime soon. The shop was an experience in and of itself. There were so many things to see that he wished he had a couple extra pairs of eyes to take it all in.

After much looking around and getting delightfully lost, he found himself staring through a pair of thick goggles that showed cartoon animals jumping around on the other end of it. He turned them this way and that to see how they moved.

One of the animals that didn't look as cartoonish as the others. It was a bird of some sort, sitting on the ground and idly cleaning itself. He wondered what it was up to.

It lifted its head up and stared him dead in the eye.

"Wocher scamp."

Hiccup nearly dropped the goggles. Even after he took them off the bird still remained, still staring at him with bright blue eyes.

"Wocher scamp." It said again.

"... hello?" Hiccup didn't know what it wanted, only that he should probably leave it alone.

He took a step back, but the bird hopped forward. It clicked its beak, looking as if it were staring between Hiccup's face and the goggles he still held.

"... Oh. _Oh_. I, uh, I wasn't going to steal them. I really wasn't. See? I'm putting them back."

He gently placed the goggles where he'd found them and tried to back away again. But this time the bird wasn't having that. It leapt into the air and flew right at him.

Hiccup screamed (or squeaked - not that he could tell you). He threw out his hands and shut his eyes.

There was a sound like an umbrella popping open.

"Oooh, flowers! How pretty!"

That did not sound anything like a bird. Hiccup opened his eyes. He felt his jaw drop.

In the place of a bird there stood a woman. She was tall and willowy, decked out in a white, button down tunic, black vest, and black trousers. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail, only further accentuating her sharp features. To complete the look, a grey mask was perched jauntily on the side of her head.

The deep tan of her skin made her hazel eyes appear to glow. They twinkled with delight as she plucked the bouquet of flowers that protruded from the end of the wand Hiccup still held out before him.

From above came a raspy caw. The sleeves of the women's tunic were rolled up to her elbows; she held out an exposed forearm for the bird to land.

"Greetings, little man. What do you need?"

Hiccup spun around. Behind him there stood a man with similar attire and features as the woman. But unlike her he stood and regarded Hiccup solemnly. The man frowned but otherwise left him be, instead walking over to join his counterpart.

"Well now? What is it?" He asked.

Hiccup opened his mouth to answer but his mind blanked out. His eyes dropped to his wand.

"... Why did it do that?"

"Because this is a joke wand." The woman shifted the bouquet and held out her left hand. "May I see?"

Hiccup gave her the wand. She waved it over her companion's head and a spray of streamers and glitter flew out. "See? Very useful for parties."

"That's a good quality wand there." The man said, brushing off his shoulders. With his head turned, Hiccup saw that the mask he wore depicted a theatrical "comedy" face. Whereas the woman's mask had the "tragedy" face. How strange that their personalities appeared to be the opposite.

"Indeed." She returned the wand to Hiccup. "Now state your business, little man. You are not supposed to be here."

"I'm not?"

"No. This shop will open at twelve for the performance and not a minute before. Didn't you read the sign?"

"I _did_, but ... uh ..." Hiccup fidgeted, "... I didn't know that the shop was closed."

The woman shrugged. "Well, now you do. You didn't come here to see the performance, did you?"

"No, I came to see the owners."

"You're in luck, then." She extended her left arm, making the bird fly up into the air. "I am Pepper."

The man extended his right arm. "I am Salt."

The bird did a loop-de-loop and landed on his arm. "And I'm Butter!"

Together they bowed.

"Welcome to Fantasia!"

Hiccup waited for them to straighten up before he bowed as well. "My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoik. At your service." He pulled out the letter and showed it to them. "I was told to give you this."

The man who called himself "Salt" took it. He opened it up and after a moment his frown grew less pronounced.

"Oho, I know that look. That must be good news. Is it?" Pepper asked. Butter whistled low and flew up onto one of the shelves. Hiccup watched it go.

"Good enough." Salt folded it up and walked away.

The woman made to follow but then she turned and saw that Hiccup hadn't moved. "Well? What are you standing around for? Come along."

Hiccup startled. He mentally shook himself and ran to catch up to her.

"... If you don't mind my asking, I have a question." He said.

"Why is Butter named Butter?" She laughed when she saw the look on his face. "Well? Is it?"

Hiccup caught Butter's unblinking gaze and grimaced. "If it's inappropriate or something you don't have to tell me."

"Don't worry, it's a popular question. Tell him Butter."

Butter settled onto Pepper's shoulder and shook itself out. The elevation made it so that it stared down its beak at him. "Because I eat butter chicken."

"Oh." Hiccup watched her watching him. "So cannibalism."

"Huh. I suppose it is. But hey, if a lady likes something then she likes something. Isn't that right?" Pepper cooed. Not only did Butter seem to understand her, she even went so far as to stick her little triangle tongue out at her. There was something so distinctly _human_ in the action that Hiccup did a double take.

"What kind of bird is she?" He asked.

"First of all she can hear you." Butter said. Pepper rolled her eyes while Hiccup openly gaped.

"Butter is a very smart and verbose kind of bird. I know she looks like a cockatiel - that is, aside from the blue eyes - but to be honest none of us know what kind of bird she is. Or if she's a bird at all. What we do know is that this little lady likes being called a lady and that she has the average intelligence of a five year old human child. And considering how she reacts around magic ... perhaps magically enhanced as well."

At that, Butter puffed out her chest. "I am _very_ magical."

"Yes you are, my dear." Pepper stroked her head. Butter obliged the petting for a short moment. Then she took off to roost over a tall birdcage that stood next to a large desk. Pepper slid behind the desk and pulled out a bird treat. She tossed it to Butter and Butter neatly caught it.

Hiccup walked up to the desk. "What are you looking for?"

"My performance regala." Her head disappeared. It popped up again with a pointed witch's hat perched on top of it. The mask was secured around the brim. "The customers should be coming in any minute now."

"Wait, really?"

Pepper held open a silver pocket watch. "It is quarter to twelve now."

Hiccup stared at it, shocked and mildly terrified. It grew worse when he heard the muffled noises that came from the front of the shop.

On instinct his hand slipped to his pocket. Nessi had begun to wake up. He felt her nose rub into his palm.

Pepper didn't seem to notice his distress. "Honestly I'm surprised we're getting so much business so fast, even with the festival and the prime location. Nice to know our goods are appreciated." She went around the desk and hopped onto it. "Speaking of which, I have a request."

"What is it?" Hiccup walked over to her.

Pepper reached into her pocket and pulled out a quill. "I would like to trade your wand for this quill. Or if that's not acceptable, I could find something else."

Hiccup felt his face heat up. "You don't have to. I'll give it for free. I don't need it."

Her eyes assessed him. Hiccup had the odd feeling she was trying to see into his head.

"I don't know about humans, but for the rest of us the acts of borrowing and exchange come with a different set of rules. And I'm not normally in the practice of owing favours to children." She held the quill out. "What do you say?"

Hiccup attention darted between the quill and the wand. Then his mind registered what she'd said. "You're not ...?"

"No, I'm not. Can't you tell?"

Not really. Whatever she'd done to appear as she did was effective. But now that she mentioned it, he began to notice certain, subtle things about her that would've otherwise escaped notice. Like how her eyes were a little too wide and tilted a touch too high. How the skin stretched across her cheeks somehow gave him the impression of wood made soft. How the teeth she smiled with seemed sharper than they ought to have been.

"... If you're not human, then wha-" Hiccup clapped his hands over that disaster of a sentence before it completely escaped his mouth. If he hadn't regretted getting out of bed that morning he sure did now. _Great job, Hiccup. You just ruined everything._

Face hotter than a furnace, he started tripping over apologies but Pepper waved them off. "Calm down. If I didn't want any questions I wouldn't have told you." She bit her cheek and thought for a moment. "I don't know if the word for it exists amongst humans but let's just say I hold a closer relation to Animagi than you would think. So. Deal or no deal?"

Still deeply embarrassed, Hiccup took the quill and pushed the wand into her hands. "All yours."

"Splendid. Oh, and here comes Salt." Pepper slid off the table and went over to him. She patted his shoulder on the way out. "You joining me soon, right?"

Salt nodded. "Five minutes."

They watched as she went to greet the customers, Butter flying in her wake.

Salt turned to Hiccup. "You're coming with me."

"Why?" Hiccup dumbly asked.

He was met with a raised eyebrow. "Do _you_ want to deal with the lunch hour rush?"

Right on cue the voices got exponentially louder. They heard Pepper start on a welcoming speech.

Hiccup shook his head no.

"Good. You will follow me to the back and I'll show you a shortcut."

Together they wound through a labyrinthine path of shelves and racks until they came to a wooden door. Salt opened it and Hiccup peeked around him to see a back alleyway. Further to the left he saw that where the opposite building cut off there grew a thick line of bushes he estimated to be taller than him by at least a head.

Salt quickly narrated the instructions that would lead Hiccup back to the main road and closer to the bookshop. It sounded easy enough.

"Will you be alright? Do you want me to send Butter with you?"

Hiccup shook his head. "I can do it. I'll get there in no time." Even as he said that, Salt frowned down at him. But he relented and sent Hiccup on his way.


	5. Ch 4: Hiccup's POV (Part 2)

Chapter 4 (Part 2):

Part 2 of the same day

* * *

It took Hiccup exactly three turns and one attempt at retracing his steps for him to eat his words.

He'd tried to follow the instructions, he really had. But no matter where he'd gone he hadn't found any of the landmarks he'd been told to look out for and trying to go back to the shop had just made it worse.

He'd even gotten desperate enough to crawl through one of the bushes. It spat him out into another alleyway, this one even stranger than the last.

It was official. He was hopelessly lost.

His stomach made a point to remind him that he was also hungry. If he didn't get food into him quick enough it would lead to the kind of circumstances he hadn't had to face in years and wasn't keen on revisiting anytime soon.

Perched on his shoulder, Nessi rubbed her nose against the artery in his neck. As soon as he'd gotten out of the curiosities shop Nessi had climbed up and started doing her thing, her sweat doing a decent job at keeping his sugar levels balanced. Hiccup guessed she'd probably sensed Butter flying around and had decided that holed up in his pocket was the safest place to be. It was nice to know at least one of them had survival instincts that were alive and kicking.

Her steady, vibrating purr was a small comfort while he wandered through the alleyway feeling tired, miserable, and generally put upon.

When things got like this his mind tended to get repetitive. That is to say, it would take a couple of things currently populating his thoughts, blow them out of proportion, and then feed them to him on an endless loop because apparently if his mind - his quick, clever mind which never stopped producing thoughts and never _ever_ shut up or gave him even a moment of peace - had nothing to intellectually stimulate it and there were bad feelings in the general vicinity then for who-knows-what reason it would flop down in those bad feelings and roll around in them. He could spend anywhere up to a few minutes to a couple hours in "the bad place" and get to the point where he was a hair away from having an extinction crisis. It was a fun time all around.

Currently his thoughts were taking a walk down the road of regrets. They circled and bounced to the tune of that one jingle he'd heard somewhere on a radio years before and hadn't gotten out of his head since, until it eventually became too much for him and he decided that now was a good time as any to have a sit.

_A good place to lie down and die, too. Very peaceful. _His dark thoughts supplied him.

No, he was not giving up, he told himself. That was the hunger talking. He was better than that.

But that didn't stop him from slumping back on the box he was sitting on and staring aimlessly at the sky.

He had been about to indulge in a few frustrated tears when a door next to him opened.

"Oh my. What happened here?"

Hiccup tilted his head sideways to see an old woman stepping out of the doorway. She had short, silvery hair curling at her nape and wore a simple brown tunic over a pair of faded blue trousers. On her shoulder there perched a young barn owl.

Hiccup felt Nessi cower back in his hair. He sat up and blinked a few times to get rid of the threat of tears.

"I'm ... I'm not hurt. Just resting" He croaked. He grimaced and cleared his throat.

She frowned and moved to kneel before him. "Are you lost?"

Hiccup crossed his arms. "No, actually. I happen to live here and I was just taking a walk."

"Oh? And where's here?"

"In a box with a rat."

The woman chuckled, even as Hiccup continued to sulk. "Nice cheek you have on you. I like it. By any chance, have you eaten lunch yet?"

His stomach answered that question for him. Hiccup didn't know what kind of face he was making but apparently she found it amusing.

"It seems not. Now it just so happens that my shop is situated on the main street and I have some leftovers from my lunch. If you want to come through my shop to get out to the main street, that's fine. If you want to stay and have a bite of food, that's also fine. What do you say?"

It was kind of her, and a fair enough offer. If she was the one who owned the shop then it would probably be safer for him to rest indoors than out in an alley.

Or she could be lying. Just because Hiccup had lived in a village for most of his life didn't mean he was gullible.

Either the old witch had read his mind or she must have seen his thoughts on his face. Whatever it was, it made she sigh. She carefully removed the barn owl from her shoulder and placed it before him. It was still so young that she could've easily fit it in her hand.

They both heard a shrill squeak come from Hiccup's shoulder. He felt Nessi crawl under the front of his tunic and out of sight.

The witch raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

She pointed at the barn owl. "This is Misty. Tell her where you want to go and she will lead you. The back door is open and if you want to come inside and reach the main road that way then you are welcome to do so. I'll be off now."

She stood and dusted off her knees. Then she disappeared through the door, leaving it fall a little open behind her.

Hiccup was left sitting before an unperturbed Misty, who politely stared back at him.

He didn't move for a good couple of minutes, a part of it having to do with his scattered mind trying to come to a decision. The majority of it was preoccupied with observing the owl that stood before him. He didn't often get a chance to see birds this close. Somewhere in his mind he was reminded that in a few short weeks he'd get more than a lifetime's worth of owls in his immediate vicinity to see and draw and observe as much as he pleased. Come to think of it, he'd get to see a whole lot of other creatures he hadn't seen before. It was strange to think about.

The owl who stood before him had the biggest pair of intelligent eyes that he'd ever seen on a bird. They seemed to shine with their own light as they gazed back at him, a striking feature in an otherwise round, fluffy body covered in brown feathers.

The bird hopped back a bit. Hiccup belatedly realised he'd extended his hand.

Oh, right. Introductions.

Hiccup cleared his throat. "... Hello?"

Misty tilted her head, as if acknowledging him.

"Okay, um. Hello. My name is Hiccup. It's nice to meet you, Misty."

The little owl gave him a soft hoot. He decided it was an appropriate time to extend his arm.

"... Will you accompany me into the shop?"

Misty observed him. Hiccup waited.

She gave another hoot and with one flap of her wings she hopped onto his arm. Her tiny claws latched onto the long sleeve of his tunic rather than clipping into his skin; it hurt far less than he'd expected it to. Her weight was an oddly comforting thing to feel. When he got to his feet and edged towards the door she gave him an encouraging chirrup.

The door opened into a room cluttered with rickety chairs and an old tea table. Against one wall a thin staircase led up to the next floor and on the wall directly before them there hung a heavy curtain. Hiccup parted the curtain and stepped into the main part of the owl shop. It was a dim place, the air filled with soft hoots and rustling feathers.

They found the witch there. She glanced up from where she stood at one of the cages trying to coax an owl inside. "So you decided to show up? Welcome. Feel free to look around."

Hiccup mumbled a thanks but otherwise remained transfixed on the cages; his fingers twitched and he wished he had his notebook with him.

There were so many of them. They lined the walls and went all the way up to the high ceiling. Hiccup craned his neck back to see a few eyes glinting at him in the gloom. He wished he could go up there and get a better look. With Misty still perched on his arm, he slowly eased himself from the entryway and began to wander amongst the cages.

The owls came in many different sizes and colours. Hiccup saw ones that had feathers ranging everywhere from black, brown, speckled, to completely white. A few of the bigger ones were secluded to large cages by themselves. He found one cage that contained a nest filled with tiny owls about the size of his fist. They didn't seem to mind him peeking through their cages to get a better look. Most of them were asleep, though some did arouse themselves to give him befuddled looks.

Seeing such creatures in real life really was better than reading about them in books. He he flitted between this cage and that one trying to memorise the features of as many of the owls as he could, even as he heard the older woman walk behind a large desk and begin to pull out pots and pans.

"I don't believe I have introduced myself yet. My name is Olivia Hawthorne, formerly Olivia Flaversham. I own and run the owl shop you see here. What would you like me to call you?"

He turned around when the smell of spiced tomatoes reached his nose. At the desk Mrs. Hawthorne had piled a few thick slices of brown bread onto a ceramic plate and was in the process of ladling soup into a bowl.

She hadn't asked for his name, which, again, was nice of her. Hiccup took her up on the silent offer. "You can call me Hiccup."

"Pleased to meet you, Hiccup. Make yourself comfortable." Mrs. Hawthorne gestured to one of the chairs.

She took a sip from the ladle and made a face. "This could want for more salt. Shame my body cannot have that. Will that be a problem for you?"

Misty detached herself from his sleeve and flew over to the desk. He followed her there while his host added another dollop of soup. "As long as none of this contains milk or cheese I should be fine."

Mrs. Hawthorne hummed. "No dairy for me either. Only thing I'm allowed is goat milk and that too occasionally." She took a moment to survey her work and nodded. Then she set a small, dented metal teapot on a coaster and filled it with a clear liquid that sprouted from her wand. She tapped her wand to the pot and the liquid began to bubble.

Hiccup made himself comfortable in one of the chairs before the desk. He dug out Nessi from inside his shirt and gently lifted her onto the table. Nessi shivered and curled up in his palms.

Mrs. Hawthorne saw her and her face filled with delight. "My, what a clever little thing! I've only ever read about such creatures in books. Does it have a name?"

"Her name is Nessi."

"She's beautiful."

"Thank you." Hiccup took a spoonful of the soup and let Nessi inspect it. Then he held up a slice of bread for her to sniff. It wasn't until he got her approval for both that he began to eat.

"They do have strong noses, don't they?"

"She is ... sensitive to certain things, yes." He ripped off chunks of bread and dipped it in the soup. "Do you have an animal friend too?"

"Contrary to the life of someone who runs a pet store, I don't. And my husband has been gone for many years so it's just myself and the owls here." Mrs. Hawthorne poured the simmered tea into a large mug and sat down across from him.

"I haven't seen you around here before. Is it your first time on this street?"

"School shopping." He said.

"Hogwarts?"

Hiccup nodded.

"Ah, that explains it." She looked past him into the store. Even with her thinking of other things, her eyes still remained sharp and thoughtful. "Be sure to fit in as many adventures as you can while you're there."

Hiccup paused mid-chew. When she didn't say anything else, he swallowed his bite.

"... Aren't you going to tell me something like 'study well' or 'don't slack off'?" He asked her.

She scoffed and took a sip from her mug. "Bah. Why would I do that? You seem quick enough; you'll be fine. A person can learn wherever they are, at any age. But adventure? Dreams? Aspirations? That only happens when you open yourself up to it, when you take a chance. And there's only so much you can do before circumstances or life or something else tries to get in the way. Don't let it come to that."

Hiccup mulled the words over. Until then he hadn't considered what he might've wanted out of this whole "formal schooling" experience. Just because he'd read about it in a book didn't mean he had any personal experience with the thing itself. His village was too small and too remote for such a school to be practical or feasible. In spite of all the information he had stored away in his head he still didn't quite know what he was getting into. Nor had he decided on what he wanted out of it, if he wanted anything at all.

He'd just ... tried not to think about it, as ironic as that sounded. It was the best way he could come up with to keep off the homesickness that he knew he'd sooner or later have no choice but to face.

He would rather it be later. When he couldn't pretend that this was just a holiday. When there was no longer the thinnest thread of hope of going back.

Time to divert the topic.

"You sound like you have experience in that." Hiccup said. In his unoccupied hand lay a curled up Nessi. He idly stroked his thumb across her head. By then she'd settled somewhat into his palm but otherwise remained alert. Meanwhile the only uncaged owl in the room perched on a wooden bird stand in the far back and cleaned her feathers, completely ignoring them.

"Damn right I do." Mrs. Hawthorne set down her mug. "I've had plenty of adventures in my time. Still do sometimes. You know Nottingham?" Hiccup shook his head no. "That's where we are right now. My home is only a little ways away from here. It hasn't always been but for a good portion of my life that's where I've lived now. You'd think with the general area not being a particularly magical place that it wouldn't have anything interesting to offer but that's not true. I've had some of my best adventures here, and that's counting the ones I'd had while still in London. You know why?"

She waited until Hiccup asked. "Why?"

"Because I took a chance, that's why. Doesn't matter how old you are, if there is something to be done or someone needs help then you can surely do something."

She finished the rest of her tea and stood up, beginning to clear away the utensils not in use. She made quick work of it. Hiccup watched as she went around to rifled through her shelves and started pulling out all manner of baubles and miscellany.

She placed them on a side table where a large banner lay, haphazardly folded and sagging off to the side. While he drained the last of the soup he heard Mrs. Hawthorne begin to mutter.

"... of all the ... you'd think I'd have enough but no ... where ...?"

Moving the bowl and plate away from the table edge, he finally allowed Nessi to return to his pocket and hide. By way of consolation he shifted the folded up newspaper in there with her so that she may make a nest out of it.

He went up to the smaller table and peered at its contents. "Is there something wrong?"

Mrs. Hawthorne didn't bother to pull her head out of the shelf she was combing through. "Oh, nothing terrible. I just can't seem to find my novelty ink anywhere - or any other ink, actually. I was thinking of using it for the decorations, which as you can see, " she paused to chuck what looked like a dead beetle over her shoulder. It soared into the air and Misty caught it from her stand with a loud crunch, "I _still_ have not finished. I swear if it's not here ... paid a decent sickle for that set I did ..." She trailed off into muttering.

Hiccup spotted a loose sheet of parchment poking out under the banner. He took out the quill he'd been given earlier.

There was a good chance something disastrous would happen. But he wouldn't know if he didn't try.

Hiccup touched the quill to the parchment and drew a squiggle. The sheet did not catch fire, nor did the quill burst into a cloud of obnoxious glitter. Instead a dark blue mark showed up on the page.

"What's that you got there?" Mrs. Hawthorne walked back to the table, wiping her hands on her apron.

Hiccup handed her the quill. "Will this work?"

Upon using the quill, a line of green appeared on the sheet. Her smile grew bigger the more she drew.

"This is a self-writing quill! And the ink changes colours! I can work with this." With a flourish she lifted the quill to reveal a rough drawing of a tulip, each petal outlined in a rainbow of colours. At a certain angle the ink seemed to sparkle. It created a rather pretty effect. "Oh! But where are my manners?"

From her apron pocket she removed a handful of something which she gave to Hiccup. "I'm sorry this isn't much, but will it do?"

Hiccup opened his hands to see three glass marbles, each coloured red, green, and blue.

By then he'd more or less come to accept that he had a thing going on and the best he could do was let it take its natural course and see where it went.

But he did still make sure to thank her for them. He wandered around the shop for a few more minutes and said goodbye to Misty before he left. As it turned out he'd not only ended up on the street he needed but also on the same side of the street as the bookshop. It was just a matter of keeping to the sidewalk.

By that time it was well past peek lunch hour. Most of the people had gone off to have their own meals and the road was much less crowded than it had been in the morning. Hiccup entered the main square and found the bookshop easily.

This time a different person was at the front counter. When he asked for Audrey the wizard gave him a note.

_I've gone out for lunch but the things you want are where you left them. Stay as long as you like._

_\- A._

Hiccup waited until the wizard was busy with other customers before he snuck behind the counter and into the storage space.

Never had he known a greater relief than when he found the pouch laid on top of the little box of books.

(He was aware that the books were less of a purchase and more of a donation and that he'd known of their existence for only a very short time. But mentally he'd already categorised those books as _his, _okay. They now meant something to him.)

With a full belly and nowhere else he needed to be, Hiccup spent a few peaceful hours curled up on the floor reading. It was the best thing he'd done that day.

He leafed through more of the travel diary and learnt new things about some of the northern continents. He even took a look through the book about the enchanted stones and found that it detailed other kinds of information and practices as well. The books that were "misbehaving", Hiccup decided, he'd save for later.

He didn't resurface until he realised that the light that came in through the high windows was at the wrong angle for reading. What time was it? How long had he been there? He didn't know. What he did know was that he was hungry again.

The books fit into the pouch. Every single one. And even after it was filled Hiccup found the pouch to be almost as light as it had been empty. He slung it around his neck and went back to the door.

He waited until an opening came and ducked back under the counter. No one noticed the short, scrawny boy that left the shop.

Outside the sky looked to be edging into evening. Hiccup spotted a clock in one of the display windows that read half past five. That counted as approximately late tea time, didn't it?

With the later hour, there were more stalls open around the square. They sold things that ranged from festival regalia to food items. In spite of his money-less pockets Hiccup still checked them out, half curious to see if he'd find Rin somewhere.

He was met with all manner of food, like sticks of fried vegetables and crispy pork rinds, sweet buns filled to bursting with thick cream and so hot they were still steaming, fruits carved into the shapes of flowers, and as many handfuls of hard, sugary candies as one could hold. The most popular amongst them seemed to be these flaking pastries that were baked into the shape of suns, some filled with jams and others filled with spiced meat. Hiccup couldn't buy a crumb of them but he enjoyed the sight and smell nonetheless.

There were plenty of stalls selling festival themed items: festive hats, festive ribbons, miniature festive flags, and one that even sold festive mugs. What he noticed was that the majority of the stalls were selling flowers, be they different sized flower bouquets or live flowers in small flower pots. All of them kept to the colour scheme of red, pink, orange, and gold. Those few stalls that sold other manner of trinkets seemed to go by the same colours, though he spotted only one of them selling charms, and all of those charms were shaped into various sized suns and priced for a lot more than their worth.

Across the square the inn was doing a brisk business. Hiccup made his way inside in time to hear a cheer erupt from one of the far tables. At least three of the inn staff wove between the talking customers, delivering orders and returning with food and drink. For as many people left, more came in, and the air just seemed to grow thicker with noise and people. It was an excellent place for anyone below eye level to get trampled. Hiccup took note of this and made for the stairs.

To get there he had to go past the main counter and drinks bar. On the corner of the counter he saw a glass bowl bigger than his father's head filled with thick biscuits. The sign before it read "Complementary Sugar Biscuits". Hiccup got his hands in them and started taking some out.

"Pssst!"

A head of fluffy brown hair popped up behind the counter. It belonged to a scruffy-looking boy of about six. He was so short that he had to sit his knees on the stool to be seen properly over the surface. The smile he gave Hiccup had holes in it from missing baby teeth.

"Hi there! Would you like to do some business?" He asked.

Hiccup, midway through stuffing biscuit #5 into his pocket, blinked back. "Who are you?"

"That information is not relevant at this moment! Would you like to do some business with me?" The boy propped his hands on the polished wood and leaned forward. "See, there are people outside doing business, right? Like selling food and things? _Well _I am also doing a business! A trading business, if you will. If you have anything interesting on you then you can trade it with me for something equally interesting. So, you want to trade?"

That was ... essentially what Hiccup had been doing all day, now that he thought about it. The boy had a wide-eyed and earnest look to him that made Hiccup wonder if he'd ever met a bully in his life. He could guess that the child had been waiting for eligible people to pass by most of the day just so he could play this game of his.

Hiccup mentally shrugged and decided he might as well.

Taking the biscuits out of his pocket, Hiccup juggled them in one arm while he dug around with the other. He found the marbles (slightly buttery) and placed them on the counter. "How about these?"

The boy's eyes went even rounder and shinier. He snatched up the marbles and turned them this way and that, emitting little awed sounds as he did. He finally looked up at Hiccup with the happiest face Hiccup had seen on a person that day.

"Absolutely! These are great! Hold on, I'll be right with you." He hopped down from the stool and disappeared. Faint, rummaging sounds came from under the counter until he resurfaced again.

"For the high quality items you've given me, sir, I place before you an item of equal quality." He set it down with upmost reverence. "It is the best thing from my collection. What do you think?"

Honestly Hiccup hadn't really known what to expect. For all he knew it could've been anything from a bottle cap to a set of collecting cards. What he got instead was a dull, brown sphere just a little bigger than his cupped hand. He picked it up and found it lighter than he'd expected it to be.

"What is this?"

"That," the boy swept his hands through the air, "is a surprise! The only way to know is if you throw it!"

So it was a wizarding toy. The throwing part was concerning, but otherwise there didn't seem to be any harm in taking it.

Hiccup did some quick mental calculations and settled on putting the sphere into his pocket and keeping the biscuits in his hands. Walking away from the counter, he threw a quick, "thank you," over his shoulder.

"It was nice doing business with you!"

Hiccup was on the stairs before the sentence was done. He'd already stayed downstairs long enough. He wasn't taking anymore chances.

It was lucky for him that the doorknobs talked. From them he not only learnt that yes a group of rowdy looking vikings had rented two of the rooms but also where those rooms were. The doors to the rooms had even been kind enough to let him in so he could poke around.

Inside one of them he came upon what was unmistakably his father's fur cape so that's where he made sure to hide his pouch in a crevice behind the drawers. Then he sat down on the thick rug and got to work on the biscuits. With how his day had gone there was no telling what would happen if he tried to save them for later.

The room was located on the second floor, which meant that there was an entire floor between it and the multitudes of people gathered below. He enjoyed the quiet of the room. A small part of him wished time would stop right then and there and he could stay in that moment and never have to go to school or bother about anything ever again.

But that was only a part of him. The rest of him had him out the door a few minutes after eating. He had never gotten around to exploring the inn like he'd wanted to do when they'd first come and it was about time he checked that activity off his list.

Then again, the day had given him far more "activity" than he'd ever asked for or wanted. But that was beside the point.

Hiccup had been right when he'd thought poking around the inn would be fun. The hallways of the inn proper turned out to be its own separate world of strange delights. Considering this was the first wizarding inn he'd ever been to he didn't know if it was normal or not for the furniture to talk back but he thought it was fascinating as could be.

It was made even better because this time he'd taken precautions; before leaving the room he'd gathered a handful shadows to himself and kept mainly to the walls while exploring. This had the effect of all sorts of curious reactions cropping up whenever the doors or cabinets or paintings realised he'd caught them talking amongst themselves. After the flurry of shrieking, scoldings, and/or questions about what a child like him was doing sneaking around, they were usually amenable to sharing bits of gossip with him or telling him about themselves.

On one of the higher floors he got into a spirited conversation with a pair of curtains who insisted they'd been shipped all the way from Spain and that the lace on their trim was in fact Spanish lace.

It took them all by surprise when a shout came from the open window. The shout was immediately followed by a flurry of pigeons, one of which shot right through the window and made the curtains scream.

"No! No! Go away! Not the trim!" The curtains gathered together against the wall, clutching their hems like two indignant old maids protecting their only scrap of wealth. The pigeon completely ignored them. It squawked and flailed through the air and went tumbling down the hallway.

There came another shout from below. Hiccup poked his head out to look.

As it turned out he'd wandered to the side of the building where there existed a back alley. By then it was full evening and the whole sky was painted deep indigo. From what little light there was Hiccup made out four people directly below him. Or rather, three boys and a girl if the voices were anything to go by. By the looks of it the girl was backed against the wall while the other three surrounded her.

The first thing that stood out to Hiccup was the bright hair on the girl. It caught the light of a nearby lantern in such a way that the top of her head glowed orange. The second was that the light also showed one of the boys with a wand pointed at her.

"So are you going to apologise or not?"

"I'm telling you I didn't _do_ anything wrong!"

... Was it just him or did that voice sound familiar?

"Then why does my friend here have a broken spy glass?"

"Yeah. You know those cost money, right? Aren't you going to pay?"

One of them tried to reach his hand out. She slapped it away.

"For the last time, _you_ ran into _me!_ It wasn't my fault you three went running around that corner and knocked me on my arse! So will you please LEAVE ME _ALONE!"_

Ah. Now he remembered where he heard it.

But just to be sure ...

Hiccup leaned out and cupped his hands over his mouth. "Excuse me?" They didn't hear him. He tried again. "Excuse me?!"

That did it. All four of them looked up.

"Um, miss? Excuse me, miss? Can you hear me?"

From below, the girl yelled. "Yeah? What is it?!"

"Do you happen to have three brothers?!"

"I do!"

"Is one of them Hamish?!"

"Yes!"

Hiccup took out the brown ball. It might have been light but it had enough weight to it that he was sure it wouldn't float away in the breeze.

He might not have known the specifications of what it did but he did know enough to realise that whoever was down there probably needed it more than him. He just hoped it would be enough.

"Here! Catch this!" He stuck the ball out the window and let it drop.

The luck from Lin's charm must've finally kicked in because the girl caught it mid-air. Before Hiccup could wonder whether the girl would know what to do or not he saw her throw the ball high over the head of the boy in front of her.

It hit the far wall and then everything erupted in light.

It was like a green fire cracker had blown up on the ground below. The air filled with explosions and screams and Hiccup slapped his hands over his eyes almost too late.

He crouched under the window and waited while the explosions went on. He had no idea if the girl escaped or if he'd ended up doing more harm than good.

When the lights were gone and Hiccup could use his eyes again (somewhat) he peeked out the window to see the damage. But everything was dark and he could hardly see anything down below. Either she'd run away or was lying hurt on the ground because of him.

He would've spent more time trying to see what had happened if two adults hadn't eventually shown up, wands out and glowing. They were followed by more who could be faintly heard complaining about the racket. Then and only then did he back away from the window. Quiet as could be he retreated down the hallway.

There was nothing else left to do. Whatever else became of that was now out of his hands.

* * *

It was nighttime and Hiccup was suffering.

Around him the room reverberated with the combined snores of two viking men and four viking women.

How had they fit that many people into a single room? By temporarily joining two rooms together, expanding the ceiling, and conjuring up bunk beds. He guessed it must've taken a hefty amount of gold to convince the inn's owner to allow them to do such a thing. The only good to have come out of that arrangement was that Hiccup was the only child there (thank the gods) and had thus been given his own tiny cot near the window to avoid accidental squishing.

Hiccup's father had made his grand entrance right on time for dinner and much too late to go out and do anything productive in regards to Hiccup. As there were a few other parents (meaning: every single person sleeping in that room because why risk staying in separate rooms, right?) who still had business they needed to deal with, they had all agreed to spend the night and take care of those things the day after. There was no point in going all the way back to the mansion for one night and if they waited any longer the soonest they'd be able to get their work done would be after the festival. It was the most practical thing to do.

That didn't mean Hiccup had to be happy about it.

Turning over in his cot, he stared morosely out the window. The stars glittered back at him, distant and uncaring. The window was open to let in any passing breezes but that didn't matter because Hiccup was too warm and scratchy from tossing and turning to think of sleep. At least when it had been raining there had been a bearable coldness to the damp. This warm, still weather was just plain suffocating. Another ripping snore practically tunnelled into his ears and made him want to claw them out of his skull.

Oh screw it all he was going to find a lamplight and dig out his books and-

A shadow dropped in front of the window. But it turned out it wasn't just a shadow because a normal shadow wouldn't have landed with a thump on the roofing tiles that extended beyond the short ledge.

The sound that almost came out of his mouth before he'd shoved his fist in it might've been a frightened squeak but no one need ever know that.

For a few, tense seconds they both stayed still. Hiccup was half convinced that the intruder would maybe go away and leave his very vulnerable hide well alone.

"I know you're awake."

No she didn't.

"I can see your eyes staring open from here, ninny."

Oh. Well. He couldn't argue with that.

Hiccup got out of bed and shuffled to the window. He didn't worry about being quiet; experience had taught him that it would take nothing short of a dragon raid to wake any of them up. He wondered if this girl who he'd seen back in the alley - because it was her, he was sure of it now - knew that.

Regardless, she remained crouched outside, balanced on the section of sloping roof that extended from that part of the building.

"So ... how did you find out I'd be here?" Hiccup leaned against the window ledge, propping his chin on his folded arms.

"None'a your concern. I came over here because ... because I wanted to give you something." Now that Hiccup was closer he could pick out a few more details in the dark. Like how the girl's silhouette appeared bulky because she wore a cloak. The folded lines of a nightdress that poked out from underneath. She fumbled inside the cloak for a moment before she extended her hand to Hiccup. "I wanted to thank you properly."

The thing she held was pebble smooth when Hiccup touched it. It fit neatly into his palm and when Hiccup brought it closer he found himself surrounded by a cloud of scent he'd only ever caught a whiff of in the Healer's hut.

"That's a soothing stone. It's got a lavender smell. If you want to calm down or sleep you just put it next to you and it'll work."

Hiccup brought it up to his nose and took a sniff. And immediately yawned so big his jaw cracked. He heard her snort.

"How'd you get this." He rubbed stray tears from his eyes and tried to hold back another yawn.

"My mum has plenty of those. Wasn't that hard to grab one."

"How do you charge it?"

In the darkness he saw her cloak shift as if she'd shrugged. "I think you're supposed to charge them by keeping them in moonlight every now and then. Maybe every month. I don't know. How d'you know that?"

"I read a lot ..." In the surface of the stone were symbols and indents, spider-web thin. His fingers absently traced them. "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it. No really. Don't." The girl pulled up on her haunches like she was either going to stand or pounce. "... I guess I'll see you around, then. G'night."

"G'night."

Hiccup stepped back from the window. Her shadow leapt up and disappeared.

Back in his cot, Hiccup snuggled under the covers. He made sure to rub the stone to the collar of his borrowed sleep shirt and the surface of his pillow before stowing it safe inside the pillow sleeve. Sleep came easier after that.

He didn't remember what he dreamt of. Only that at one point his dreams carried a promise both ominous and hopeful, shrouded in fields of long grass and rushing winds.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Aaaand that's it! That is all! I'm officially going to be MIA for the next three months or until my exams are done. If you have any questions or need something clarified you can let me know in the comments. :D**

**I look forward to seeing you all next year with new chapters and the continuation of the stories of the little four! Byeeee!**

**Bonus treat: Songs for The Big Four**

**Here are four songs, each one belonging to one of the four, that I've picked out because when I listen to them I am in some way reminded of them, a crucial aspect of who they are, what they mean to me, and/or the result of the journey that they'll inevitably go through in this series.**

**Going by order of the books that'll each be dedicated to their individual storylines:**

**Rapunzel:** _Daughter_ by Sleeping At Last

**Merida:** _Glitter Gold_ by Barns Courtney

**Hiccup:** _Battle Scars (acoustic version)_ by Paradise Fears

**Jack:** _Beautiful Creatures_ by Illenium ft. MAX

**Edit:**

**I hear someone got confused concerning the identity of the characters, so for the sake of convenience I'll just list them all here:**

**Rin - Spirited Away (2001)**

**The triplet boys - Merida's brothers from Brave (2012)**

**The triplet girls - the daughters of Captain Amelia and Dr. Doppler from Treasure Planet (2002)**

**Jim Hawkins - Treasure Planet (2002)**

**Ted Wiggins - The Lorax (2012)**

**Audrey - The Lorax (2012)**

**Vanellope von Schweetz - Wreck-It Ralph (2012)**

**Pepper, Salt, and Butter - my OCs**

**Olivia Flaversham - The Great Mouse Detective (1986)**

**That one brown-haired little boy in the inn - the son of Captain Amelia and Dr. Doppler from Treasure Planet (2002)**

**Girl in the alley - Merida from Brave (2012)**

**Additionally, you can also read this story on AO3 (sunandroses) and on Wattpad (sunandroses) and if you would like to see additional things for this story like fan art/more about my worldbuilding or if you just want to stop by and say hi then you can visit my project-oriented tumblr blog (ohlooksheswriting-wips) or my main writing blog (ohlooksheswriting**)


	6. Ch 5: Jack's - Merida's POV

Chapter 5:

An almost meeting happens on the train.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So I broke my promise of not writing anything until my exams were done. I also broke my promise of having only one POV per chapter. (Okay but listen, listen, this scene turned out exactly how I'd planned it months and months ago so it all works out)**

**In other news guess whose family decided that now was the best and totally not inconvenient time at all to take a three day road trip and thus she had to spend six hours in a car with no internet connection and nearly bored out of her mind (I finished writing this in like an hour and a half lol) Fun times amirite? :D And consistent chapter lengths who? Don't know her.**

**The next chapter is gonna be huge (again. I seem to be making a habit of this and I'm sorry T*T) so I can promise now that it's going to take a while.**

**No beta and minimal editing, so have fun with that. -3-"**

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The train blew a warning whistle. Jack felt Emma hug him tighter.

"Do you have everything?" His mother asked.

Around them people rushed to get on the train. Children leaned out the windows to say goodbye to their families one last time. It was a chaos of last minute well wishes and 'I love you's and Jack stood in the middle of it.

"Everything's already in the baggage compartment, mum. I'll be fine." He reached up and pulled her into another hug, so that this time Emma ended up squashed between them. He really should be going.

"Do well and be good- no wait I've already said that." His mother laughed, slightly panicked. Jack felt her kiss his head. "Just - write to us soon. And tell us what it's like there."

"I will. I love you." How many times had he said that? He'd lost count.

In the end Jack did manage to pull away. He made it about halfway to the train before his sister shot across the floor and threw herself at him so hard they went spinning.

"IloveyouIloveyouI_loveyousomuch!_" Her tiny arms squeezed around his ribs. He couldn't have pried her off even if he'd wanted to.

He didn't have to. As quick as she'd come she pulled away and ran back to their mother. She hid her face in their mother's robes and Jack didn't have time to see what her expression was because the train was about to leave.

He climbed into the train with the rest of the last minute boarders and quickly found a window to stick his head out of. He waved until his mum saw him and waved back. By then the train had started to move; he watched as the people he loved most in the world grew smaller and smaller, until the station was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

There was an ache in his chest. Jack knew it would stay for a while. But when he let his mind wander to think about where he was headed off to there was also a thrill there. A sense of ... trepidation for what was to come next.

This was an adventure. This was _his_ adventure. And Jack wanted to live it.

He was one of the last to find a compartment. He wandered around what he presumed to be the first year section poking his head in at random until he found a group of boys who seemed nice enough and who invited him in.

Time passed quickly after that. He got to learn about all of them, where they came from, and what they were hoping to find in the new school. Most of the boys turned out to be half bloods, with a few muggle-born scattered in between, and that suited Jack just fine. They were fun and friendly and by the time the trolley carrying treats came around Jack didn't mind spending some of the money from his now heavier coin purse to get enough Every Flavor Beans to challenge them all to a game of Who Can Eat The Most And Not Get Sick.

Before any of them knew it the sun had set and everyone was changing into their school uniforms. But doing that wasn't anywhere near enough to make a dent in the restless, pent-up energy that had managed to spread to almost all of the younger students like a bad infection.

Some of them got through it by talking with their seatmates about the school they were headed towards and their future classes. Others went around to mingle with their future (or old) classmates in the other compartments.

Meanwhile Jack was having a grand old time running through the corridors and driving the Prefects up the walls. It was almost as good as being back at Halley House and running away from the older kids whenever he and the younger ones got on the last of their nerves.

He'd gone all the way to one of the last train cars and stopped for a breather. Last he saw his new friends were somewhere near the front catching hell from the rare teacher who happened to be traveling by train with them. Soon he and the rest of the kids would find out which houses they were in and then they'd get to have more adventures together. The thought made Jack grin as he leaned against a door.

From within there came a sudden, muffled sound. If he wasn't mistaken, it almost sounded like ... was that crying?

Jack held his breath. The door he leaned against was open by the barest sliver. He dared to nudge it open just a little further and peeked inside.

In the compartment there sat one girl and no one else - and in such a crowded train that was beyond strange. She sat with her back to him and facing the window; the only identifying feature that Jack could make out of her was a long mane of some of the curliest, reddest hair that he'd ever seen on a person. The hair fell all the way down to her waist and puffed out to hide her shoulders. But that didn't stop him from seeing the shudder that ran through her as another sob came out.

Growing up Jack had often been a very perceptive, if impulsive and rambunctious, child. He was a good judge of character, and more than once it had helped him escape trouble when he knew just what to say and how to say it.

At that moment Jack was sure that if he walked in there he'd likely get yelled out of the compartment before he could get a word in edgewise.

But that didn't mean he was completely out of ideas.

He heard some familiar voices coming from up ahead and made a quick, quarter-baked decision. Digging around in his pockets, Jack found what he was looking for. He pulled the door further open and stuck his head in.

"Hey! Catch this!"

He chucked it in and then booked it before either the girl or his friends could find him.

He didn't see the thing he'd thrown inside escape its packaging and jump right at her. He was long gone when the girl let loose a startled shriek and batted it away.

The girl sat there in her seat as the creature - frog, it was a frog - went jumping around the compartment. She felt immediately flustered and embarrassed for screaming, even if no one was there to hear it.

She was Merida. She was the girl who had three obnoxious little brothers who were always finding new ways to get on her nerves. _She_ of all people shouldn't have reacted like that to something as stupid as a frog.

Thinking of her brothers reminded her of her family, which reminded her of home and her current predicament. And that made her frustrated and miserable all over again.

She had never wanted to come here. Of all the places in the world she had never, _never_, dreamed that she'd live to see the day she'd be attending an English school. If she had known what her parents were up to she would've taken a hundred - no, a _thousand_ \- of her mother's princess lessons if it meant she'd get to stay home and live amongst everyone and everything she knew and loved.

Instead here she was far away from home with nothing but a trunk full of books in subjects she didn't know or care to learn about, off to attend an English school full of English strangers who all had heads stuffed full of bloody English nonsense. It was a living nightmare.

Her eyes latched onto the still jumping frog. The fleeing image of the boy who'd thrown it in there passed through her head and she felt a sharp stab of anger. She snatched the thing out of the air, shoved the nearest window open, and made to throw it out.

Except ... the texture wasn't right. She would know. Slowly Merida drew her hand back.

The skin was brown and it was smooth instead of slimy. She sniffed the butt. Sweet? Candy? Chocolate. Merida ate it in one bite.

The sweet gunk that filled her mouth contrasted with the salty tears she'd been tasting earlier. She wiped at the snot that dribbled from her nose, and felt the sting when she rubbed across the red and irritated skin underneath.

While boarding the train she'd been fully intent on staying stubbornly wretched for the entire time she was there. She'd already made herself insufferable enough that no one wanted to sit with her and everyone had left her well alone.

But as she stood in the middle of the compartment, hearing the distant sounds of people getting louder as the train finally neared the school, there seemed to be a lull in the storm raging in her head. For the first time that day her feelings were muted and confused. It was strange.

Nothing was turning out how she'd thought it would. She wasn't sure what to expect next.

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**A/N:**

**Wishing you all Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year! May the next decade be better than the last!**

**Edit:**

**Because I know that people are going to ask about this (and for some reason I also feel like I'm leading you all on and that's making me feel a little guilty), I'd been thinking of including the official POV's and meetings that happen between our favourite four for this entire book in the intro of the next chapter. But on looking through my chapter notes I realised that the next chapter might end up being a little too long for me to upload this entire thing plus the chapter itself onto this website considering the kind of trouble I'd had last time.**

**So I'll list them all here. This way you can even get to decide if there are chapters you're looking forward to reading or ones you'd rather not, in case one of you happens to be a person who would much rather prefer to read about their interactions than worldbuilding or foreshadowing or such, since many of these chapters have somewhat of an episodic feel to them:**

**Ch. 1: Jack's POV, Jack and Rapunzel**

**Ch. 2: Hiccup's POV**

**Ch. 3: Jack's POV**

**Ch. 4: Hiccup's POV, Hiccup and Merida**

**Ch. 5: Jack/Merida's POV, Jack and Merida (brief)**

**Ch. 6: Rapunzel's POV (FIRST WEEK)**

**Ch. 7: Hiccup's POV (SECOND WEEK)**

**Ch. 8: Merida's POV (FIRST MONTH)**

**Ch. 9: Jack's POV (BEGINNING OF SECOND MONTH)**

**Ch. 10: Rapunzel's POV, Rapunzel and Merida (BEGINNING OF SECOND MONTH)**

**Ch. 11: Merida's POV (SECOND MONTH)**

**Ch. 12: Hiccup's POV, Hiccup and Rapunzel (END OF SECOND MONTH/HALLOWEEN)**

**Ch. 13: Jack's POV (NOVEMBER)**

**Ch. 14: Rapunzel's POV, Rapunzel and Jack (END OF NOVEMBER)**

**Ch. 15: Hiccup's POV (EARLY DECEMBER)**

**Ch. 16: Merida's POV, Merida and Hiccup (MID DECEMBER)**

**Ch. 17: Rapunzel's POV, Rapunzel and Merida (END OF DECEMBER)**

**Ch. 18: External/Ambiguous POV (DECEMBER/JANUARY)**

**Ch. 19: Merida's POV, Merida and Rapunzel (JANUARY)**

**Ch. 20: Rapunzel's POV (FEBRUARY)**

**Ch. 21: Jack's POV, Jack and Hiccup (MARCH)**

**Ch. 22: Hiccup's POV, Hiccup and Jack (MARCH)**

**Ch. 23: Merida's POV, all 4 (brief) (APRIL/MAY)**

**Ch. 24: Rapunzel's POV, all 4 (brief) (MAY)**

**And there you have it. I think by now the POV plan is all set for me, but depending on where the writing takes me the small details of the chapters may change.**

**I hope you all find this helpful. :D If anyone has any questions please feel free to leave them in the reviews.**


	7. Ch 6: Rapunzel's POV (Part 1)

Chapter 6 (Part 1):

Rapunzel enters Hogwarts

_(published in two parts because once again I have made the chapter too long)_

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**A/N:**

**Hello, everyone! I missed you all!**

**I am thrilled to have this chapter out here! Finally, after all these months, this thing that's been stuck replaying in my head is _out._**

**Notes:**

**\- A warning for this chapter: if you're familiar with Myers-Briggs psychological analysis, then you might know that Rapunzel has been typed as an ENFP. I'm an INFP, so my reasoning here was that Rapunzel at 11 was perhaps something like me at 11 but like if I were an extrovert - ok I know that's not entirely how it works, I did do my research, referencing articles, videos, literature, etc., and I've tried to write accordingly**

**But for much of this, I took a deep dive into my memories to recall what my thought process was like all the way back then and ... uh ... this is the result. Think Anne of Green Gables level of flowery prose and add frills to that and there you have Rapunzel's POV**

**The way I've puzzled it out in my head, I think that one of the main differences between little me vs little Rapunzel's way of functioning is that me at that age was like _Pocketful of Poetry_ by Mindy Gledhill whereas Rapunzel's more like _Wonder_ by Naughty Boy ft. Emeli Sandè. That's the shortest way I can phrase it**

**See, I know a few ENFP's out in the wilds and with what I've learnt I now know even more about this. And I think one of the things that really got to me in the ROTBTD fanfics I read way back when was that Rapunzel was always written off as some kind of serene, goody-two-shoes, prim and proper manners fairy. ****_Ha_****_._ Like, if you actually stay true to the ENFP essence then do you know how much chaos potential you can tap into? Do you know how much fun that is to write? ****_It is so much fun_****_._ I'm having a blast over here, an actual party, bc I get to live out my dramatic, artsy, ridiculous, zany, teenage self shenanigans through Rapunzel. 10/10 highly recommend**

**(If I'm being honest with myself tho, I'd say that Rapunzel in her first year more accurately fits the aesthetic of the song _Everything At Once_ by Lenka.)**

**I'll admit, this was an interesting exercise for me - I think I've used more exclamation marks in this chapter than I have in all my other chapters (****what I'd give to see your live reactions to this)**** Good luck lol**

**\- I'd like everyone to know right now that I've read and reread all 7 Harry Potter books and have never watched a single one of the movies, so keep that in mind**

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Rapunzel stood on the platform gazing up at the sky. By then the sun had almost set; the dusky pink and indigo tones of the sky melted into each other, colouring the clouds and creating a tapestry the likes of which surely only belonged in dreams.

She was spellbound by it. Rapunzel played it in her mind's eye, over and over again, what it had been like to be surrounded by so much sky all at once.

Next to her stood her mother, one hand resting around Rapunzel's shoulder, the other held up to see the time.

"… The train will be coming any moment now," she said. "I should be going."

"Mother, I will see you soon, right?" Rapunzel turned and hugged her mother. Her arms were so small she could barely fit them half-way around her mother's waist.

Mother stroked her head adoringly. "We will see each other before you even get a chance to miss me. Make sure you listen to your teachers."

"I will. I promise, I'll be good."

"I know you will. I love you very much, Rapunzel."

Rapunzel felt the tears well in her eyes at the familiar words. "I love you _more_."

"I love you most." Mother kissed her head.

She turned to address the professor who stood nearby. "You will be seeing my daughter safely to the castle, yes?"

The witch nodded. "I will be taking all of the first years to the castle."

"Good." Her mother gently pried Rapunzel off of her. She gave Rapunzel one more kiss, then nudged her in the direction of the other witch. "Go on, flower. Go wait with her."

Rapunzel did as she was told. Her mother got settled on her broom and kicked off. Up, up she went. From high above she waved to Rapunzel. The sight was enough to make Rapunzel's lip tremble.

She watched her mother fly away until she was no more than a speck in the sky. Rapunzel sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.

"Cheer up, little one. Aren't you excited? You'll get to meet new friends soon."

Rapunzel jumped. She had almost forgotten about her new guide. Had her sniffling been that loud? Had it been upsetting? She peeked over shoulder to check.

The older witch smiled down at her. In the lantern light, Rapunzel could see that her skin was the deepest brown and her robes even darker. She was thin as a storybook scarecrow and taller than Rapunzel had ever seen. She could almost imagine that the witch's hat went up high enough to scrape the stars from the sky. In her smile, Rapunzel caught the faint shine of a golden tooth.

What an _extraordinary_ person. Just the look of her seemed to beg Rapunzel to ask this woman of the stories that one such as she surely contained. _Surely_ someone like her would have never possessed that glint in her eye and that twinkle in her smile had she not done and experienced extraordinary things. What a thought, that Rapunzel would meet someone so interesting on her first night out in the world!

Was the castle full of other such interesting people? What kind of stories would they have? How many would she meet? Would all of them like her? What would she learn from them? There were so many possibilities!

All those possibilities stretched out before her, infinite and tantalising. Rapunzel couldn't take it anymore. Hands clutched to her chest, she rocked forward onto her tip-toes. "Are you … are you an adventurer?"

It was either an adventurer, pirate, or explorer, or something else entirely. Rapunzel didn't care. All of those things sounded exciting and thrilling and fantastic and she was near brimming over to know what it could be.

To her surprise the woman laughed. It was a throaty and pleasant sound, unexpected and wonderful to hear. It made a warm, bubbly feeling blossom in Rapunzel's chest. She'd made someone laugh! Someone was happy! Because of her!

"I'll admit, I used to be … in a sense. At the moment, my main job is as a professor, Head of Ravenclaw House. My name is Lelani Ginna. And in a few years time if you choose to take Care of Magical Creatures, then you will have me as your Professor Ginna."

"Merry meet, Professor!" Rapunzel bowed to her and Professor Ginna nodded back.

"Likewise- oh, here they come now."

The sound of a faint, blaring horn rung through the air. In the distance there appeared a small blip if dark scarlet. That blip grew and grew until Rapunzel could clearly make out a train – it was definitely a train, the pictures in books had told her so – and it was _big_. It was _so big_. The closer it came, the bigger it got, and the bigger it got, the louder it grew. Rapunzel imagined she could feel the sound of it through the soles of her boots. The slights and the sounds and all of it excited her to the point where she reached out and clung to the professor's sleeve so that she wouldn't get carried away and do something reckless, like accidentally jumping off of the small platform and falling onto the tracks, or possibly even floating away.

When the train was just a few minutes away from reaching them Professor Ginna stooped down. She picked up the lantern from the ground and, taking Rapunzel's hand in her own, she walked them to the treeline where a winding path led away from the clearing and empty carriages.

There was a shrill whistle and a great rush of steam as the train came to a stop. The platform was on the other side of the train and Rapunzel could no longer see it. But what she heard first were a _lot_ of voices. They were somehow louder than the train, all calling out and bubbling over into the evening air. Next, she saw a flood of black clothed figures, spilling off of the platform and onto the grounds faster than she'd ever thought possible.

The professor had let go of Rapunzel's hand and brought her wand up to her throat. The lantern she held went even higher.

"ALL FIRST YEARS TO THE BOATS. ALL FIRST YEARS PLEASE COME TO THE BOATS."

Ohhh that was loud! So loud! Rapunzel hopped from foot to foot, a little behind her future professor so that she wouldn't catch sight of Rapunzel covering her ears.

The group of bodies sectioned off and what looked like a sizeable swarm of black robes in the dusk came streaming towards them, closer and closer. A part of Rapunzel wanted to reach out and cling to the professor's sleeve again but she stopped herself. She wanted this. This was an adventure. This was _her_ adventure and she had to be brave.

The students finally reached them in a noisy gaggle, until Rapunzel could no longer tell where anything was for all the children that surrounded her. Now that they were so close, she could see that they all wore the grey uniforms under their cloaks. She mentally gave thanks for her own school sanctioned cloak covering her up all the way; hopefully no one would know that she wore one of her dresses underneath.

Unlike Rapunzel, Professor Ginna was taller than all of them. She patiently stood staring off over their heads. It only took a few minutes before she turned on her heel and started down the dirt path leading into the trees, the children following after her swinging lantern. Their voices seemed to fill up the darkened forest, rising above the whistle of the wind as it blew through the branches.

The narrow path soon opened up and brought them to the shore of a lake, where a small herd of little boats sat in the shallow water. Above that was the children's first view of the castle.

It stood above the lake, bordering near the edge of a cliff face, large and impressive. From the highest turret to the tiniest window, every corner of it seemed to glow with the lights of hundreds upon hundreds of candles. The evening sky only served to make the lights of the castle shine that much brighter.

More than that, there was something so genuinely welcoming and _warm_ about the castle. Rapunzel was sure of it; she couldn't describe how but she knew. Even from where she stood on the shore, she could feel that warmth brush against her skin.

She wasn't the only one who'd stopped to stare. A hush had befallen the children as they drank in the sight of the school. The hush was a murmuring, buzzing thing, filled with the now quieted voices of all the other children, sounding confused and eager and all manner of things in between.

Rapunzel didn't notice that many of them had started wandering off to the shore. She didn't notice much of anything until she felt a hand gently push her back.

"Go on." Professor Ginna said. "Off you get. Find a boat for yourself."

Legs feeling oddly stiff, Rapunzel stumbled away. She climbed into the nearest empty boat she came across. Around her the other children broke off into smaller groups, climbing together into their chosen boats while they still chatted. Why did they all seem so friendly with each other? Was it because they had made friends on the train? Surely, they wished to sit with their new friends now? Did that mean Rapunzel would be left alone because she was friendless? Had she done something wrong? What if-

Before Rapunzel's train of thought could go any further, she was distracted by a group of noisy boys all trying to pile into a nearby boat that couldn't possibly fit all of them. Professor Ginna had to go over and shoo them off. For a moment Rapunzel was hit with the thought that she heard something familiar amongst them. There was laughter and splashing, and something else … no … _someone_ else, a voice … where had she …?

The seat under her gave a sudden lurch. A few of those same boys had somehow wandered over to where Rapunzel was and were trying to climb into her boat.

It took them about half a second to realise that there was already a girl sitting there. The first boy who did shrieked and toppled headfirst into the water, setting off his friends and everyone who saw it into peals of laughter. Those boys ran off, but eventually they were replaced by a small group of stragglers who huddled quietly in their seats. It was very obvious that none of them knew each other any more than Rapunzel knew them.

That was alright. Now Rapunzel knew she wasn't alone in her circumstances and she could focus again on being excited.

Once all of the children were settled into the boats, Professor Ginna climbed into one herself. With a wave of her wand the boats surged forward. Along the surface of the inky black water they sped, the lake below them glistening with the light of the stars that hung directly above. The farther they sped the larger the castle grew, until all the world seemed to be swallowed up by its glory and splendour. Rapunzel had the sudden, fleeting image in her head that the castle was lit from the inside out by the enchanted lights of faeries, so that all who wandered in the night could find their way to it and no one need ever be lost. So that someone like her need never be lost.

Sitting there in the boat, drifting over the surface of the water, it was as if she were getting her first real look at the castle.

She was … _enchanted_.

There were so many other things she felt but that was what first came to mind. Of all of the words Rapunzel could have used to describe the feelings surging through her heart, it was the only one that seemed to encompassed all of it. Because surely no one else could have come up with something better to describe what she felt, to express what she could feel lighting up her insides, until she felt it from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair?

It was as if all of her dreams had come true at once.

She had always dreamed, had always hoped, that the whole world was a wonderful place full of beautiful things just like she had sung in her songs and read of in her storybooks, no matter what her mother had said. All her life Rapunzel had hoped that someday she would get to see the world beyond her window and give it all her love.

On the broomstick ride over, the wind that swept through the clouds had been so fierce that Rapunzel's eyes had stung and watered and she'd had to keep them closed for most of the journey. When they had reached the ground, it had been full dusk and she hadn't been able to see any distinct details in the shadowed gloom.

But _this_ moment, with the sight that lay before her, with the energy that surrounded her and the feelings that filled her, was the one thing that Rapunzel was sure she would remember for the rest of her life. _This_ was her first real introduction to the world, the world she had always longed to be a part of.

This was her beginning, her someday, her happily ever after. She wanted to believe that this beautiful thing was real – that it would be real when she woke up and for all the days she would live through this adventure.

If there was ever a singular instance to symbolise the start of a new life then this had to be it.

The boats neared the tall cliff. Where the cliff face met the water there grew a wall of swaying vines.

"Heads down!" came Professor Ginna's voice from nearby, and Rapunzel ducked her head.

Under the vines they went. On the other side it opened into a wide, dark tunnel, likely taking them under the castle itself. For a few moments the only light was the lamp that the professor held high, leading their little fleet of boats; the light eventually illuminated a kind of underground harbour.

They all clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. The moment her boots touched the ground a thrill went running through her. There was a pressure in the air, a hum whispering in her ears, a taste of _something_ that she had never quite experienced before. For a moment all Rapunzel could do was stand there. Then a shoulder bumped into her and she was knocked forward, nearly stumbling until Professor Ginna's hand latched onto her arm and pulled her up.

Rapunzel had come with the stragglers hence she and the others were herded to the front of the motley group. They all climbed up a passageway in the rock after their professor, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. Rapunzel's ears popped. (That was the second time she had experienced her ear popping; it felt funny.)

After the boat ride the chatter had all but died, yet none of the other students appeared to feel that the _something_ in the air had grown stronger and Rapunzel wondered why. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, carved front doors.

Professor Ginna raised her fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

It was opened at once by a squat, bespectacled wizard. His robes were dark brown and his grey hair was combed neatly to one side. He regarded them with an air of mild indifference.

"Evening, Professor Fredricksen. Are you here for the first years?" Professor Ginna asked.

Rapunzel and the few others near the front were just close enough to hear what he said.

"No. It is about the … new arrivals. They're here."

"Good. Send them down."

The other professor shuffled off to do just that. Professor Ginna opened the door wider and led the first years through the largest space Rapunzel had seen yet.

It was a hall, like the hall of a castle from the ones in paintings. It was so big and the ceiling so high Rapunzel thought her tower just might fit inside of it with room to spare. Countless torches lined the stone walls. A large marble staircase dominated the other end of the floor space and led to the floors above. Over their heads there hung a chandelier that blazed with thousands of candles, casting the already bright hall in an even cheerier glow. To their right was another set of wide wooden doors from which came the voices of many, many people. The rest of the school must have been in there.

They did not go through these doors, but past them. As they went by Rapunzel felt a surge of energy spike through her chest and reached up to clutch her robes. To others it must have looked like she was experiencing a sudden case of heartburn or an upset stomach. Across the flagged stone floor they went, until they came to a small, empty chamber off the hall and were guided into it.

Rapunzel went inside and felt the barest sliver of the pressure lift. She watched as the chamber filled up with children, with Professor Ginna coming in last and closing the door behind her. Still hushed after the boat ride and now entering the school, the first years didn't say much. Some didn't even look up as they all huddled awkwardly together, awaiting their fate.

The professor, apparently undisturbed by their behaviour, took off her hat and patted it down. In the brightness of the chamber Rapunzel noticed something that she had not seen before. On Professor Ginna there grew a wide streak of white hair right in the middle of her head, extending from her hairline all the way into the ponytail that the professor had tied her hair into. Her hair was so tightly coiled that the mass of it formed a near perfect sphere in the back, almost the size of the head it grew from. She caught Rapunzel's gaze and returned it with a quick grin, that one golden tooth flickering in and out of sight.

A few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. The same professor who'd greeted them before, Fredricksen, walked through. He nodded to Professor Ginna and beckoned to the doorway.

A group of children strode inside. All of them were dressed in the same uniforms that the first years wore. They were Hogwarts students, and most likely first years as well.

Their arrival made the chamber quiet even further, if it were possible. The first years shuffled back as the new arrivals joined them. There were six children in total, two girls and four boys. They formed their own little group and stood together, either not noticing or not caring that the others kept their distance.

The teachers seemed to be of the same mindset. Once the last one was through, Professor Ginna turned to them all and clapped her hands together.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony. Throughout the years that you will spend here, your House will be like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own history and each has produced witches and wizards who have gone on to do great things in the world. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, bringing great honour to all who are a member of that House."

She looked around at them once more and smiled kindly. "I do hope, sincerely, that all of you will find your place at Hogwarts. This school has much to offer you if you are willing to give it your best. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I shall return when we are ready for you. Until then, please wait here."

With that, the two professors walked out and the first years were left alone.

It wasn't long before Rapunzel heard a hushed whisper start up in the back of the room. Something to do with what the Sorting Ceremony would entail. She wasn't too worried about that; whatever happened she held the hope in her heart that everything would be alright.

What really bothered her were the odd sensations that continued to stubbornly cling to her. She didn't understand what it meant. Was it because there were so many magical people surrounding her and all that magic was suddenly overwhelming to her body? That couldn't be right. Her mother performed numerous magical spells within their home, a few of them being incredibly powerful. Rapunzel herself knew that she possessed strong magic; if she were so sensitive to large quantities of concentrated magic then why had she not felt like this before?

Was it the magic of the castle, then? Was there something about it that made it interact oddly with her own magic? If this was her reaction to entering the school then Rapunzel didn't know what to expect on going any further in. Was this what she was supposed to deal with from now on? To be uncomfortable or possibly in pain?

It was a disturbing thought, something Rapunzel didn't want to consider, not when she had only just gotten there.

To distract herself, she focused on the new arrivals. It appeared that even within their group there was some kind of division. Two of the boys hung to the side. The rest struck close together. A boy and a girl – they looked the same, reminding Rapunzel of depictions she'd seen of trickster forest sprites, all crooked edges and sharp features – whispered incessantly with a third, a boy with limp, brown hair and meaty shoulders. The other girl stood with them, her face set into a bored frown.

Rapunzel looked to the other two. One was a chubby, wide-set boy with a ruddy face. The other was almost the exact opposite; lean and pale and spotty, he stood with his arms crossed and eyes fixed resolutely on the ground.

At once, she was filled with curiosity. She wanted to see if one of them would talk to her. But doing that would mark the second time in her life she had talked to someone her age. Would the person be a nice person? What if they were not? Then she would have to carry that memory with her with no way of undoing it. But what if they _were_ nice? Could she go over there and strike up a conversation? What would she talk about? What would _they_want to talk about? Would the other first years notice? So many questions spinning in her head and only one way to solve them.

Rapunzel took a tentative step forward.

The chamber's door opened. In strode Professor Ginna, this time with a roll of parchment in her hand.

"Form a line and follow me. We will now head to the Sorting."

They did as they were told. Rapunzel ended up right the middle in the line, behind a nervous-looking brown haired girl, while the strange new arrivals were moved to the very front. By then even she felt the trepidation in the air getting to her. She shook her hands out and tried to take deep breaths as they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and to the pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The doors flew open to admit them into a sea of buttery golden light.

What hit her first was the _energy_. It wasn't just that there were so many people in the hall – Rapunzel barely even noticed them – it was the fact that _so much magic_ filled the air all at once.

How could Rapunzel have so terribly underestimated just how much _magic_ an entire castle full of witches and wizards possessed? It was so thick she was half sure she could see some of it colouring the air in blue-ish vapours. She could feel it pouring over her body, entering her lungs, filling all the spaces within her. Her heart hammered in her throat and for a moment it was almost too much-

And then … it levelled out. Like reaching a great height after climbing up and up, there was a moment where something inside of her yielded and the pressure ceased. The sounds returned to her ears again – it was suddenly so easy to breathe. The moment left her in a rush of relief.

Without her realising it, she and the rest of the first years had reached the front of the hall and stood facing it. The students of the castle sat before them, forming a sea of black robes contained within the stone walls of the large hall they were now in. The walls glistened in the light of blazing torches and the countless enchanted spheres of light that floated over all those gathered like minuscule stars. Between the four long tables there appeared to be silvery, indistinct shapes, oblong and strange like pale mist trapped in place.

Rapunzel eyes wandered over them, over all that she could see, unafraid of all those who stared out. She looked up and gasped at the sight of the night sky, resplendent in starlight.

Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the lighting, but something about it all tickled inside Rapunzel's head. The crowd, the lights, the magic … it formed a pattern that didn't just rebound but seemed to _echo_. Echo into the far reaches of her thoughts, farther back than she'd ever explored them.

She wondered about it. She let her eyes rove around the hall and stood there and thought and wondered, until at last she came to a very strange conclusion: somewhere inside of her there existed a memory that reminded her of this scene. She would even go so far as to say that something about all of this seemed … _familiar_.

But … that couldn't be right. It couldn't be. Rapunzel had never been here. She had never been anywhere. How could a place she had never been to make her think of such a word as familiar? It didn't make sense.

But it wasn't just that.

Yes … Rapunzel could feel it now, she was almost sure of it. Underneath the heavy magic that saturated everything, there was a sensation she could feel, glinting and gliding and spider-silk thin. It came from the walls and whispered through the hall. Rapunzel didn't know how she knew it was real, it was so faint. It felt more like a figment of her imagination than anything distinct.

It made her … curious.

A loud chorus of applause shook her out of her thoughts. She hadn't noticed it, but between the line of first years and the four tables a stool had been placed. At that moment a student stood up from it and walked towards a table second from the right, the one that was clapping the loudest.

Wait … why were they clapping?

"Daniels, Sebastian!" Professor Ginna called out. She stood next to the stool and read from a roll of parchment. One of the students from the first year line went up to her.

Rapunzel felt her stomach drop. When had her Professor gotten there? How long had she _been_ there? What was going on?

Oh no – oh no oh no oh _no!_ She'd spaced out! She'd spaced out so long that now she didn't know what was going on and she'd missed everything! What was happening? Was there something she should've done? Was she in trouble? Oh, _why_ hadn't she paid attention?!

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Another round of applause erupted, this time from the far left, the farthest away from the doors. Several students stood up to shake the boy's hand.

"DunBroch, Merida!"

The sight of the girl who broke from the line next was what finally made Rapunzel pause in her descending spiral to panic land. It was the girl's hair that did it.

Rapunzel had noticed much red in her life. She knew it in her paints, in her mother's dresses, in her favourite flowers. She had seen the colour gleaming in the dented, copper coins she collected in an empty flower pot and in the dull, soft clay she'd taught herself to shape. She didn't consider herself a terrible stranger to red.

But all of those reds had only been muted shades of the real, _true_ red. The red that must have been the first of its kind, the one that had come from sunsets and the hearts of bonfires. The red that inspired poems and songs about the brilliance and the beauty of life.

And this girl – she wore red as if she'd invented it.

Rapunzel suddenly wanted to write a poem herself. Or ask the girl if she would allow Rapunzel to paint her.

She was already composing the first few stanzas, her mouth slightly open, mesmerised by the hair that bounced and spilled all over of girl's shoulders. When she sat on the stool, Professor Ginna had to all but shove the hat over her head just to get it down, her hair was so big and curly.

It hardly sat there a moment before a deep, booming voice called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

The girl ripped the hat off and ran to the table on the far right, closest to the big double doors. Rapunzel was sad to see her go; the girl disappeared somewhere all the way at the far end of the hall and Rapunzel lost sight of her.

"Haddock, Havárđr!"

A boy stepped out of the line. It was the boy from earlier, the thin one who'd come in with the other five. Same as the girl before, he went and sat on the stool. And same as last time, the hat went over his head.

There was silence in the hall, all eyes to the front. The boy gripped the edges of the stool, his shoulders hunched and tense. Several moments passed and still hardly anyone spoke. Rapunzel was just getting used to the silence when the hat twitched and the deep voice broke it.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The room burst into cheers. The boy fumbled in taking the hat off, and amidst the shouting and applause he went to the table on the right, next to the one the girl before had run to.

"Hargrove, Meenakshi!" The next name barely made it above the voices, and another girl from the first year line walked up to the hat.

Hargrove, and then Haddock … and before that Dunbroch … D, E, F, G, H …

They were going by alphabetical order. And all they had to do was sit on the stool and wear a hat. That wasn't too hard.

Rapunzel did the mental calculations. Her mother's surname was Lockewood, which meant she still head time, which meant she hadn't missed anything important. Rapunzel felt some of the nerves leave her. She resolved to pay extra attention until her turn came up.

A few more names were called out. Each time it was, Rapunzel felt herself involuntarily tense, at one point almost stepping out of the line.

Finally, the moment came. "Lockewood, Rapunzel!"

Rapunzel did a little jump. She scurried up to the stool, nearly tripping over her bootlaces, and plunked herself down. The hat fell over her eyes and everything became dark.

_Interesting … such an intriguing mind we have here._

The words came from a little voice in her ear. On instinct, Rapunzel turned her head. From outside there came the sounds of laughter, but it was muffled, as if heard from a long distance.

_Who are you?_ Rapunzel thought.

_I am the hat._

_Are you in my head?_

_No. But I can see into your mind._

Immediately Rapunzel tried to think of the entirety of a story she'd read once that had involved talking furniture and which had ended in a true love's kiss, an uncursed prince, and a wedding, mainly because the mention of talking items had made that story in particular pop into her head and since she had liked it immensely then what better way to share that story quickly and easily with another soul than to do so directly through her thoughts?

She heard a dry chuckle. _I _see_ into minds, not _read_ minds, child._

_It is a good story. It has a happy ending, and happy endings make me happy so I wanted to share it. Did it make you happy?_

_… You do value the happiness of others. But what is it that you want?_

That was easy. _I want to learn more. I want to learn about my magic. I want to read more books and get more ideas in my head. I want to see as much as I can, hear as much as I can. I want to meet more people and be their friend and make them happy. I want to grow, I want to change. I want to know the world and for the world to know me._

_Passionate words, and very strong willed. I see ambition and drive in you … you would do well in Slytherin._

Rapunzel wasn't entirely sure what that meant. But that wasn't what she wanted to know, not right then.

_Will that get me what I want?_

_Certainly, but there must be more to it than that. The things you want … they come from a desire to understand. You do not wish for power, for greatness … hmm …_

_… curious and perceptive … an active mind, strong intellect … a vast imagination. Yes … you belong in …_

"RAVENCLAW!"

The hat lifted off of Rapunzel's head. The lights and sounds of the hall came into full effect and for a moment Rapunzel just sat there, dazed and mildly blinded. Then someone patted her shoulder and Rapunzel squeaked and jumped up. It was her professor who'd done it. In a moment of flustered embarrassment, Rapunzel didn't stop to see where she was going and rushed off in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

The hall rang with laughter, the loudest coming from the Gryffindors. They made shooing motions at her. Rapunzel abruptly changed course to run to the correct table, where a few seniors had stood as if about to escort her themselves.

Rapunzel found a place to sit and the ceremony went on. More names than she could remember were called out, until the last first year had found a House and the hat and stool were taken away.

The last of the applause died down. Up on the raised dais, a woman stood. She wore midnight blue robes that swirled when she walked to the front. Her head was bare, and her long hair fell past her waist in silvery sheets.

A murmur stirred up amongst the younger students.

_"Who is that?"_

_"Is she a professor?"_

_"Of course she is, that's where all the professors are."_

_"But what does she teach?"_

"Headmistress Kidagakash Nedakh." Rapunzel whispered to herself. She remembered how, many years ago, she'd sneaked a look at her mother's newspaper. She'd been too young to properly understand what she was reading, but she remembered that the woman who now stood before them all had been dressed up very importantly, grander than what she was wearing right then. The tiny picture of her had grinned up at Rapunzel before she walked out of her frame. She'd seemed nice, and the headline had mentioned that she'd done something terribly important.

Headmistress Nedakh raised her arms to the gathering.

"Good evening, one and all! To those who have stepped through these doors for the first time tonight, I say welcome! To those who have returned for another year, I say welcome back! It fills me with joy to see all of you gathered here to grace these empty halls once more. Tonight, let us feast and be merry, so that we may better greet a new day, and all the days to come, with learning, good will, and prosperity!"

With that, the headmistress waved her wand. On the tables, the empty golden platters were suddenly laden with food that seemed to materialise from air. Students passed around the bowls, jugs, and dishes and began piling up their plates.

Rapunzel would have done so as well, except … there was a problem.

On her right she saw steaming plates of sausages, cured ham, steak, lamb, and blood pudding. To her left were servings of roasted chicken, smoked fishes, bacon, and ribs dripping with sauce. In between them were smaller bowls of peas and carrots and buttered mashed potatoes and just about nothing else in the way of greens or grains or any such thing.

… There was really no helping it, then.

Summoning up her nerve, Rapunzel tapped the shoulder of the girl sitting next to her.

"What's wrong?" The girl was in the process of pouring juice into her goblet. When she made to hand it to someone who sat opposite them, Rapunzel helped her.

"… I can't eat any of this. It's all meat."

It was true. For as long as she could remember, Rapunzel couldn't stomach meat. Neither she nor her mother knew why. If it was anything other than meat then she could eat it – milk, honey, nuts, it all went down fine for her. But even a little bit of egg mixed into biscuit batter was enough to make everything come back up.

"Are you vegetarian?"

Rapunzel shrugged. "I think so?"

"It's okay, so am I. A senior taught me how to do this earlier- here, watch."

At regular intervals along the table there sat domed, golden food coverings. The girl took one of the coverings, set it over an empty plate, and removed her wand. "You think about what you want to eat and then you give this one tap, like so-" She tapped her wand. When she opened it again, there sat a pile of stuffed bread rolls on the small plate, "-and there. You have your food. Now you try."

Rapunzel took the food cover and placed it over her own empty plate. She pulled out her own wand, scrunched up her eyes, and thought hard. Without opening her eyes, she tapped the cover.

A slight tremor travelled under the lid, then suddenly it felt very warm.

Rapunzel opened the lid and sitting on the plate was a fresh bowl of hearty Minestrone stew. It even had a little cheese melted on top. She squealed and clapped her hands together. "Thank you!"

Her bench mate grinned. "Your welcome."

Rapunzel started eating. The stew tasted different from what she was used to having at home, but it was still good. While chewing through a dinner roll she'd snagged from a passing platter, Rapunzel had a thought. "Do you think the lid is only one use per person? Or can we use more than once?"

"From what the senior told me … I don't think we can. Maybe every time you use it you have to put the cover over a different plate? Or it recognises the same wand and only works if the person who tries is different?"

"Huh. Interesting. Say, could I try a little of your bread?"

"You may. Could you pass me those chips?"

"'ere." With good food to fill her belly, Rapunzel's time went quickly. The desserts arrived, and while Rapunzel avoided the cakes, puddings, tarts, and custards, she took hearty samplings of whatever ice creams came her way.

After what felt like half the night the platters cleared of all traces of food. Students began getting up and heading out of the double doors.

Before Rapunzel could do the same, the girl next to her caught her sleeve and pointed. From the other end of the table, two students with shiny badges on their chests made their way to where they sat.

"All first years are to come with us! Everyone, form a line!"

They did. More seniors came over and they worked together to round up the first years. Only when that was done did they walk single file out of the hall. While many students took the stairs that went below the main hall, the Ravenclaw first years were led up the grand stairway with the Gryffindors. It wasn't until they reached the third floor that they split up – Ravenclaws went to the right while the Gryffindors continued on.

Two turns later brought them to the end of the corridor. It was marked by the entrance to a staircase that appeared to wind up into a tower. It was only then that the two seniors who had led them made them stop.

The first senior turned to address them. "Greetings, all of you. My name is Evelyn, call me Eevie, and I'm the Head Girl of Ravenclaw House. This is Gus and he's the Head Boy. If you have anything you need help with or if you have questions in need of answers, then you come to us."

"Before we continue, let's clear some things up, shall we? How many of you are muggle-born? Raise your hand." The girl Rapunzel had sat next to as well as a few others did so. "And how many of you have come here without much exposure to places like Hogwarts? That is, if you are unfamiliar with attending a magic school such as this, or if you think you'll likely get lost in the next few weeks you're here?"

Several students laughed, but more first years raised their hands, Rapunzel amongst them.

"Very well. For tomorrow, I'll give you a quick introduction on some things you need to know. The Castle of Hogwarts is split up into multiple buildings. The building we are in now is the one that leads directly to the Great Hall, where you will have all your meals. This is where the dormitories of all four Houses are located – Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in towers, Hufflepuff and Slytherin underground. This is also the building where the teachers live, so remember that. The building where all of you will attend your classes is in another one. Directly from the Great Hall is a path which you will traverse to reach the building where most classes are held."

"Now, as you know, Hogwarts is not just a school of magic but also an enchanted castle. This means that it comes built with its own unique defence mechanisms. The structure of the castle changes itself from day to day – some stairs will disappear from one place and appear in another, some doors will become walls or some walls will become doors, and so on. You all will have to learn when and how the castle will change itself and learn it fast. However, to make things easier, the first year classes will be on the lowest floors. If you find yourself any higher than the second floor then you are likely in the wrong place."

"Remember, Ravenclaw Tower is in the _West_ Wing, which is where we are now. The Hospital Wing is located on the third floor in the East Wing, and past that is the Clock Tower. Laundry day is on Saturdays and the school shop is located on the ground floor near the Owlery, which is, again, in the other building. Breakfast will start appearing at 7, classes start at 8:30 A.M. sharp, don't trust the paintings or the suits of armour for directions, and avoid our resident poltergeist Mim at all costs. Are there any questions?"

One of the students raised his hand. "I'm sorry, but I think I forgot half of what you just said."

This made many of them laugh. The senior merely smiled. "That's fine. There's a notice pinned up on the common room notice board that says all of this and more. You may read that whenever you need to. Are there any _other_ questions …? No? Very well. Follow us and watch carefully."

The winding stair they travelled up allowed for two or three people to go at once. They reached a landing that had cream walls, a set of double doors, and a painting. In the painting was a woman in a red dress, fast asleep on a fainting couch. Curled up in her lap was a small, round pig. The painting hung beside the doors, which held no decoration except for a door knocker looped through the beak of a carved bronze eagle.

Eevie took the knocker and rapped on the door. From out of the beak there flowed a melodious voice.

_"I fly without wings. I cry without eyes. Wherever I go, darkness follows. What am I?"_

Gus answered. "Clouds."

The doors opened. They were met with a large, circular room with a predominantly blue colour scheme. Velvety blue rugs covered the stone floor in uncoordinated patches, cushioning the vibrant blue chairs and small wooden tables scattered everywhere. The walls were painted the pale blue of the morning sky, but it was hard to see with all the things that cluttered it; most of the wall was either covered by deep blue curtains or by framed paintings in every shape and size.

On one side of the room was a large notice board full to overflowing with loose pages and colourful notes and torn chits of parchment. If it weren't for a square piece of space sectioned off right in the middle of it for "Actually Relevant Information" (there was a sign tacked above it that declared it as so) it was a wonder how the first years would've been expected to find that notice the Head Girl had told them of. A large, overflowing bookshelf took up its own section on the far side of the room. It held not just books but all manner of miscellany; Rapunzel made a mental note to take a closer look at it later.

From the high ceiling there hung numerous thin and long frosted glass fixtures, casting shimmering beams of light around the room. A few of the lights were even covered by painted glass. Tiny mechanical creations drifted overhead like lazy dragonflies, filling the air with a faint whizzing and popping.

At the very front of the room was a statue of a tall woman in a flowing dress. On her head there rested what appeared to be a particularly threadbare crown. She stood on the mantle of a large fireplace that sat squarely between two stairways. The stone was carved in intricate detail, though it was hard to see when most of the fireplace was covered with a movable, collapsible mesh that appeared to be operated by a big lever.

As soon as they'd made it inside, the Head Boy turned to grin at the first years. He pointed to the large notice board.

"See, you'll need to answer a riddle to get in, but the thing about the door is that every now and then it recycles riddles. It also rewords them so that multiple riddles can have the same answer. Over on the board is a running list of all the riddles the door has done in the past decade, and you can add onto it whenever you want. I suggest you all try to copy a few of them down somewhere or learn as many as you can. Or you can ask the woman in the painting, Maria, whenever she in; she's good at them."

The boys and the girls split off and followed their respective Head Boy or Head Girl up the stairs. The boys went to the left, on the side of the room that housed the notice board, while the girls took the other, the one right next to the bookshelf.

They travelled up the winding stairs, until they came to a room that housed four beds and a few of the first year girls were dropped off. They climbed some more until they were met with another room, similar to the first. Rapunzel ran in when she saw her trunk at the foot of one of the beds. A few other girls followed but the rest continued up the stairs.

The room was circular and the four poster beds arranged at right angles to each other, which comforted Rapunzel because her bed at home had also been a poster bed. The hangings were a deep blue, the comforter and bedspread were also in various shades of blue, and the walls were the same light blue as the ones below.

"… Does anyone here hate the colour blue?" It came from a round faced, brown haired girl.

She blushed deeply red when the other three looked at her, but squared her shoulders. "Well?"

Rapunzel's former bench mate shrugged. "No?"

"Not really." This was from a girl who had short black hair and tan skin. Without another word she went to the bed that had her own trunk and flopped down on it.

"I love blue." Rapunzel said, kneeling on the floor before her trunk. She sent a curious look to her new roommate. "Why do you ask?"

"Well … wouldn't it be bad if anyone belonging to Ravenclaw hated blue?"

"… I'm sure a spell exists where you could change some of the colours if you wanted to." The girl sitting on her bed had begun pulling her shoes and stockings off. She paused and frowned. "Say, do you think there's ever been a colour war? Like, with students trying to change the predominant colour scheme in their dorms and making it other things? How much trouble do you think they got into for that?"

"I don't know." Rapunzel looked to her left. "What do you thi-?"

The hangings of that bed were pulled shut. The girl Rapunzel had eaten dinner with had already gone to bed.

The rest of the girls soon did the same. They were all tired from the heavy meal and in no time at all the bedside lamps were extinguished and the bed curtains untied and drawn together.

Curled up under her thick quilt, Rapunzel hugged her school cloak (which she'd brought to bed with her) to her chest. Carefully, she opened one of the inner pockets.

A little green nose appeared. It sniffed the air, before it was followed by a smooth, scaly green body.

_"Hii Pascal."_ Rapunzel whispered.

The little chameleon chirruped. Its curly green tail twined itself around her thumb.

_"I'm sorry you had to stay in there all day … I didn't want anyone to see you."_ She stroked a finger on his little head. She smiled when he leaned into her touch. _"It's safe now, you can get your dinner. And tomorrow, we can explore and find some flies for you! What do you say?"_

She couldn't see very well in the dark, but she thought he looked happy. She held up one of the drapes and let him climb out; he was nocturnal, and he'd likely find insects for himself easily.

The drape fell shut after him. At last, Rapunzel was left alone.

Under the thick blankets, her toes curled and uncurled. She hugged herself close, biting her lip, feeling a need to wriggle as hard as she could to get all her feelings out. There were so many thoughts spinning in her head, so many things about the day she wanted to sort through. And seeped through all of that was a deep-seated excitement, one that had stayed with her ever since she'd found out she'd be going to school and had never quite gone away after that. It buzzed and bounced in her head and made it hard to concentrate on any one thing.

So many possibilities for what the new day would bring! How could she be expected to sleep, when all she could think about were the adventures she would go on and what she would discover?

Eventually, she did fall asleep, whether she wanted to or not.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Part 2 will have the cast list for both parts.**


	8. Ch 6: Rapunzel's POV (Part 2)

Chapter 6 (Part 2):

Rapunzel experiences her first week and a half at Hogwarts.

* * *

The next morning Rapunzel awoke at dawn, as was usual. This meant that she was awake before anyone else and had far too much time on her hands.

After casting magic to braid up her hair, she did one of the things she'd longed to do all night. Bare footed and nightdress clad, Rapunzel scampered down to the common room.

It was just as delightfully chaotic as it had been the night before. The bookshelf was there where she'd seen it and Rapunzel skid to a stop right in front of it. Where should she start? Was there an order to the books or were they all just shoved in at random? How many students had used this bookshelf? What was its purpose? So many questions, so many paths, so much new information!

For a few moments, Rapunzel stood immobilised from the sheer volume of visual input to her senses.

All of the shelves were a chaotic mix of books and miscellaneous objects, parchments, and crafts. Knitted and woven items, made of wool or cotton or silk – dolls, scarves, pouches, a blanket – were stacked, bunched, and clustered together. Crafted wooden puppets, toys and figurines, even what looked like a half-finished music box, cropped up in-between. Some were done in intricate detail, a few even painted, while others had been left undone.

Rapunzel even found half-formed lumps of clay on one of the higher shelves. They'd been there so long that some had a sprinkling of dust covering them, yet when she brushed her fingers over one it felt soft to the touch.

The shelf that really caught her eye was the one at her eye level. It was one of the ones with the most books, all different colours and sizes. Many of them had loose bits of parchment sticking out of them or folded between them.

Rapunzel tugged one free and unfolded it; on it was a tiny painting of a purple butterfly. It moved. She turned the page this way and that, watching how the paint sparkled as the butterfly fluttered around the surface. More folded parchments yielded more paintings: of plants, animals, far off places. There were even depictions of feats of magic in the middle of being cast, many of which were drawn in moving lines of charcoal. A passing glance at the books yielded titles such as _Grishāla's Series Book 5: The Magical Wonders of Saltwater Biomes, The Magic of Music! Effects of Audio Waves on Magical Behaviour, Artificing Devices from the Civilisations of the South American Continent, Satyricon Liber,_ and _Mythos and Folklores of Ancient Atlantis_. At the end of the shelf was a trio of knitted dolls propped up like a collective bookend.

Scattered on the rug were mugs and bowls of used painting supplies, and crammed into the lowest shelf were bits and pieces of metal. Rapunzel sat on the ground and pulled some of them out. Gears, screws, wires, springs – these and others that Rapunzel couldn't name were what made up the odd little pieces that she found.

She picked up one of the lumps – it was made of bronze and shaped like a bean. The bean vibrated in her hand. Suddenly, two shiny pieces popped open and started moving.

They were … eyes. Mechanical eyes, that belonged to what she now recognised as a mechanical beetle. The beetle shook itself out and crawled up her hand. Two tiny wings unfurled and the beetle took to the air.

Rapunzel stood up and watched it go, clapping her hands as it did a loop over an unlit fixture.

The common room was still very much dark. Rapunzel padded to one of the curtains and pulled them open. The sight that greeted her made her gasp.

Through the window the first rays of sunlight shone through. From the Ravenclaw tower Rapunzel could see _everything_. So many things. They were so high up, so far up that none of the other places in the castle went so high.

And the _view_ – it was exquisite. It set her heart alight. She was suddenly desperate to start her day, to fill it with wonders.

She pushed open the windows and breathed in the cold air. She then ran about opening all the other curtains and windows, until the room was awash with early morning light and the air inside was as fresh as the air outside.

Rapunzel did a happy little spin in the centre of the room, revelling in the light. The notice board caught her eye. If she was to start her first day, then perhaps it would be better that she read what the seniors had put up and be prepared.

The notice she was looking for was the biggest one there, bordered by bright blue lines. She skimmed over the rules but quickly got distracted by the list of solved riddles. They were fun to read out loud. She constructed melodies for them and sang them.

_What has roots as nobody sees? Is taller than trees? Up, up, it goes, and yet it never grows?_

_A mountain, tis a mountain! Such beauty to behold!_

_What brings tears to the eyes, joy to the thoughts? What turns back the time, what sings the songs of childhood rhymes?_

_A memory, tis a memory! More cherished than gold!_

The words drifted through air as she swayed in place. For a moment, her fingernails caught on a beam of morning light. Above her came a quiet thump.

Rapunzel looked up. On the shoulder of the stone lady there sat a black cat. She gasped.

"Kitty! Kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty!" She ran to the base of the statue and held up her hands. The cat did not come down. It regarded her for a moment, its green eyes glinting. Then with a flick of its tail it disappeared behind the statue.

Above the statue was a magical clock. Around its rim were printed many units for measuring many things, and it had golden hands of various lengths with which to do so. The hands that were for telling the time informed Rapunzel that she'd been in the common room for close to an hour.

Rapunzel decided that that was good enough. She didn't want to miss anything on her first day, and for doing that she needed to be early.

The girl's staircase climbed past a few more landings, each one opening up into more rooms for sleeping. About four landings past where Rapunzel and her roommates slept was door which led to a large washroom. It was all but empty when she stepped in. She briefly wondered how such a large, rectangular space could reasonably fit inside a circular tower – or really, how any part of the spacious dorm could fit inside the tower – but dismissed the thought for later.

A few minutes later Rapunzel returned to her room feeling fresh faced and wide awake.

There was no Pascal in sight. Rapunzel mentally shrugged; he was probably sleeping somewhere. He knew where her room was now; he'd turn up later if he wanted to. Sitting on the floor, she opened her trunk and sifted through the clothes.

From underneath all the clothes, she pulled out a large parcel. Her uniform parcel.

Rapunzel took a moment to contemplate it. Then, one by one, she removed the items.

Back home, her wardrobe choice was easy – a chemise, about two underskirts, three if she was feeling fancy, and any frock of her choosing. Simple. But this uniform was … an experience.

For one thing, she donned her first camisole (it was very breezy and made her concerned for her bare shoulders) and a white, button down shirt over that. The ties for the Ravenclaw first years and the patches that would be sewn onto their jumpers hadn't arrived yet, nor had the inside of their cloaks gotten their colour change. Those things – the ties, patches, and colour change – would happen on Saturday, and all of the required items would be handed to the first years along with the rest of their cleaned laundry. That was fine for Rapunzel – she did not know how to tie a tie yet.

Next came the skirt. Rapunzel found herself greatly distracted by her new skirt. It was pleated and grey and it stopped right at her knees. It was the first skirt she had ever worn that did not reach her ankles.

When she jumped it went _poof!_ When she spun it went _whoosh!_ She had to take a few minutes to go downstairs and bounce around the empty common room to let out her feelings.

Over the shirt she put on the loose, grey jumper. She was reassured by the fact that she could cover her hands in the sleeves if she wanted to and make improvised mittens – she made a mental note to knit herself a couple pairs of mittens.

It was the shoes that proved to be the challenge. Rapunzel had spent all her life indoors and most of it had allowed her to go around barefoot. The lace-up boots she had come in had been tolerable enough – rubber soled, roomy, and made of old, soft leather.

But she fitted on the new shoes and the first thing she noticed was that these shoes were … constrained. Limiting. _Stiff_. They fit more closely to her foot. They restricted her toes. The polished black surface and the shiny buckles did not in any way make up for the fact that the material had barely any give, not even when she bent her toes and arched her feet inside of them.

She didn't _care_ that the stockings made the fit softer – she made another mental note to knit thicker stockings as soon as possible – it didn't feel _nice_ and she didn't _like_ it.

By that time, it was about 7:15 A.M. and she was essentially ready. There was no point in her dawdling in the dorm room while everyone else slept, so first she made sure to quietly go out the common room doors. Then she went and stomped her feelings down the stairs.

That's when she made a discovery.

The shoes were uncomfortable. But they were also _noisy_.

Rapunzel's feet made echoes in the confines of the winding tower. Her stomp grew faster and faster. She jumped the last step and hit the stone floor with a loud CLOMP.

The empty corridor made the sound even louder. They strengthened it, _enunciated_ it. It was _amazing_.

Rapunzel whooped and sprinted all the way down. She took the next set of steps at running speed and shot out of it so fast a woman in a nearby painting shrieked. Rapunzel spun around in the middle of the corridor and danced a happy jig. She stomped and tapped her shoes to the beat of a song only she could hear.

Clickity-clack went the shoes. Tippity-tap went her heart. Her earlier concerns momentarily forgotten, Rapunzel reached the main steps and bounced her way down in high spirits.

The doors to the Great Hall were open. Other than the one teacher who sat at the professor's table on the dais, the hall was all but deserted. When Rapunzel sat down the platters and jugs on the Ravenclaw table remained empty.

Or, no – that wasn't true. Not a minute later, there was a popping sound from under a nearby food covering. The air over several platters surrounding her shimmered and food materialised upon them. One plate held assorted fruit, another was piled high with toast, and two others sported heaps of bacon and sausages. Nearby jugs brimmed with juice and milk. Smaller vessels contained marmalade, butter, heavy cream, honey, and sugar. Large tureens filled up with porridge and different cereals.

Rapunzel took a large helping of the porridge and drowned it in honey and cream.

She was nearly done and starting on some fruit when someone else sat down beside her. It was the girl who'd shared with her during dinner.

"Good morning!" said Rapunzel around a blackberry.

The girl yawned and put her head in her arms. "Mnm."

"How are you?"

"… 'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

The girl's shoulders visibly sagged. She peeked one eye out from under her hair. "… I don't like waking up in the mornings. Give me a minute."

"Okay." Rapunzel carried on eating. When that was done, she brushed her hands on her jumper and plucked out her wand from the pocket of her skirt.

She'd been hoping to test out what had happened the night before. Now was the perfect chance. Reaching around her roommate, Rapunzel snatched up a plate cover. She placed it on an empty plate next to her and screwed her eyes shut.

_I know what it looks like. I can almost taste it … please, please, please …_

She gave exactly one precise tap of her wand. A faint tremor went under her hand, and the lid grew warm.

Her eyes flew open and she pulled the lid off. Underneath the cover was a loaf of cinnamon bread. She beamed.

Unlike the ones Rapunzel usually made, this loaf had sugary walnuts sprinkled over the surface. She took one of the pre-cut slices of bread and started picking the walnuts off and eating them. After that she started on the slice; the texture was different, but the spices were similar and it still tasted good.

The smell of the bread must have been very strong, because the other girl craned her head up. She saw the sweet loaf and made a 'ew, stinky' face. The frown turned into a big, jaw-cracking yawn and her arms stretched out like a cat's.

The girl shook herself out and sat up. With laborious care, she put three slices of toast on her plate and tipped a cup's worth of milk over them. Onto that went a small mountain of sugar, which she started mixing into the rest with a spoon.

"Don't ask. I can't drink coffee yet. This is the one thing that wakes me up in the mornings."

Rapunzel popped the last bite into her mouth. She hadn't been about to, but she had been itching to ask something else.

"What is your name?" Pulling out one of several handkerchiefs, Rapunzel took three slices from the loaf and started meticulously folding them inside.

The girl paused mid-chew. "Wha'?"

"Your name. I forgot to ask it last night."

Rapunzel watched as she swallowed her mouthful. "… You can call me Meena."

Meena. That sounded nice. She was just about to say so when something pinged in her brain. "Wasn't your name longer?"

Meena stopped eating again. She didn't say anything so Rapunzel clarified. "I remember, at the Sorting Ceremony, it was something longer, wasn't it?"

There was a hesitation there. A kind of hesitation that shone her eyes and the stiffness of her shoulders. Rapunzel set the handkerchief aside. She folded her hands in her lap, sitting there patiently until, eventually, Meena sighed.

"… My full name is Meenakshi Hargrove."

Now, that _was_ pretty. Rapunzel turned the name over in her head. She must have been silent for too long because Meena started speaking again, her words coming in a rush.

"It's okay, you don't have to say it. Everyone just calls me Meena-"

"Meenakshi."

Meena stared. "… Say that again."

"Meenakshi."

Both of them paused, then. Meena looked vaguely stunned, as if Rapunzel had just waved her wand around and made her nose green.

She turned to face Rapunzel fully. "Try saying Kshatriya."

"Kshatriya."

"Shreyas."

"Shreyas."

"Pritvi."

"Pritvi."

"Bhēshma."

"Bhēshma."

"_How_ are you doing this?"

Rapunzel shrugged. "I don't know."

"What's going on? Oh, that looks _good_. Can I have some?" One of their roommates appeared at Rapunzel's shoulder. Her black hair was pulled back with numerous tiny black clips in the front and tied into a hasty ponytail, only her hair was just short enough and wispy enough that some of the strands stuck out at the end. She pointed to the cinnamon bread.

"Good morning! Yes, of course." Rapunzel nudged the half-finished loaf towards her. "What's your name?"

"Nancy Chen. What's yours?" She sat on Rapunzel's other side and started piling up her plate with the bread and other breakfast items.

"My name is Rapunzel Lockewood. And this is Meenakshi Hargrove."

"Just Meena, please. But that's not the point– here, watch this." Meena addressed Rapunzel. "Say Prakrithi."

"Prakrithi."

"Now Āditya."

"Āditya."

"See! Look at that. Did you hear that?"

Nancy, apparently more focused on mining through the impressive pile of bacon and eggs on her plate than the conversation, merely shrugged. "Some people just have weird talents." She pointed her fork at Rapunzel. "Can you say 'paper pot, purple pot' three times fast?"

"Paperpotpurplepotpaperpotpurplepotpaperpotpurplepot."

"See? Weird talents."

"But look at her! She is literally Miss Blondie Whitebread. No one like that _ever_ says my name right. _Ever_. How is any of this possible?" Meena splayed her hands in Rapunzel's general direction. She was starting to look very upset and confused. Rapunzel pushed Meena's abandoned plate towards her and held out the spoon. Meena absently accepted it but didn't start eating.

"… Maybe it could be because my name is Rapunzel?" Rapunzel tentatively suggested.

"Yes, and does Rapunzel have a 'ksh' sound in it? Didn't think so." Meena halted the beginnings of what looked to be a tirade to assess their roommate. "Speaking of which, you sound different."

Said girl spoke through a mouth full of eggs. "Do I?"

"Yes. I didn't realise it until now, but the way you speak sounds like … like something from the telly. I think."

"It's probably the accent."

"Accent?" Rapunzel asked. "What's that?"

"It's when you speak the same language a different way because you learnt it somewhere different. Mine is American."

"Why do you have an American accent? Are you from America?"

"No, I got it from my mom. She's muggle, but she grew up in a Polish-American household."

"Oh, okay. So you're muggle-born." Meena said. "Like me."

"You too? Nice." Nancy lifted her hand for a high-five and, surprisingly, Meena obliged.

"Then I guess all of this wizarding world thing is new to you, too."

"No, not really. My grandma's a witch and my family's close to her."

This made both of them stare. Rapunzel tilted her head, trying to puzzle it out.

"But … didn't you just say you're muggle-born?" She asked.

"I am."

"But if you're mum doesn't have magic and you're grandmother does, then shouldn't that make her a Squib?"

"Nah. She's full muggle. So's my dad."

"Then what about your grandmother?"

"I didn't get it from her."

That … made even less sense. Meena seemed to agree, because she crossed her arms and voiced what Rapunzel was thinking. "I'm confused."

There was an awkward silence. Most of it came from Nancy's end, where she looked like she was trying to work out the mechanics of writing an essay on aerodynamics in Latin.

Finally, she sighed, her frown going one part dejected and three parts sulky. "… I don't know how to paraphrase my thoughts properly, so do you want the long version or the long version?"

Meena looked up to the teacher's table. Rapunzel did the same. Above the table was a big clock, magical just like all the others in the school. At that moment it showed the time as 7:50 A.M.

"Sure." Rapunzel said.

"Might as well." Meena propped her elbows on the table.

"Okay, so my mom's technically from Taiwan but she was adopted when she was a baby by this Polish-American family who'd just moved to England so like she grew up in Whales but in a Polish-American household, right? And like I _did_ technically grow up in Bristol but when I was little my mom didn't want to leave me wandering by myself anywhere and we visited my grandma's so often that I half grew up there too. And you'd think I'd instead learn to speak like I actually live in the UK from my dad, right? But noooo sir I can't trust my dad to teach me things like that because since _he_ moved from Xi'an and speaks in this generic English accent because he works at a travel agency – no really, you could put that thing in a computer and no one would ever notice; it's so weird – and my entire life he's always been like, "You know what's cool? Learning about different places in the world, so that's what we're going to do today, child." And this is why I know dad jokes in six languages. Did I learn anything useful? Like hi, hello, nice to meet you, great weather we're having, where am I, what time is it, what's going on? Absolutely _not_, what kind of question is that? Instead if I ever go to Spain and get into a traffic accident and the paramedics show up and ask me something, do you know the first thing I'm going to say? ¿De dónde van los gatos cuando mueren? Purgatorio. That's it, that's going to be the last thing I say before I die. I just know it."

She said all of this very quickly, in one breath. It was only right then that she paused a moment to stare fixedly into space. "Wait, where was I going with this? I forgot where I was going with this."

"… Sooo you were saying you're muggle-born?" Meena prompted.

"Right, so my mom's adopted, my dad's a muggle, and no one really knows where I got it from. But the good news is my grandma – the Polish-American one, not the other one – is a witch and she helped us out and every holiday we get to go to her place for Polish Butter Christmas, which is great."

"Huh." Rapunzel blinked a few times. She felt a little windswept. "That's a lot."

"It is. Do what I do and try not to remember it all at once. Or better yet, don't remember any of it. Some days I like to imagine I appeared out of the void fully formed- wait, you know what? That sounds cooler. Let's go with that."

By that time a steady influx of students had rapidly filled up the Great Hall. It was also then that the ceilings opened up and a cloud of owls came swooping down. Rapunzel watched, shocked and thrilled, as an owl flew right over her head.

In the middle of this their last roommate came rushing through in a flurry of stray feathers and unbrushed brown hair.

"Did I miss it?" She asked, out of breath. She didn't bother sitting down, just grabbed whatever food was in reach – incidentally, the last two slices of the cinnamon bread – and crammed them into her mouth.

"Miss what?"

"The schedules. Our Head of House is going to hand them out."

"You mean like that?" Rapunzel pointed.

At the other end of their table walked Professor Ginna. She carried a pile of cards in her arms that she tapped with her wand and gave to each of the students.

When she reached them, she grinned. "Ah, yes, and here we have the first years. Good luck on your first day."

"Thank you!" Rapunzel accepted her card. It had the schedule for all the Ravenclaw first years on it. It looked … busy. She stared at it for too long and made herself momentarily dizzy.

"Why are you in such a hurry, anyways? We've still got, like, half an hour." Nancy reached forward and poured herself a goblet of juice.

"But first we have to find the classes, don't we? I don't want to be late. And didn't any of you bring your books?" The girl hefted up her bulging satchel.

Ah … so that's what she'd forgotten. Rapunzel knew she would've missed something. "I left mine upstairs."

"I was half asleep." Meena said.

"I figured we're going to get lost and be late anyways. What? It's true." Nancy shrugged. "I thought I might as well get breakfast and then go back to the dorm later."

"Well, then, I- … I think I'll wait. If I'm going to be lost, I'd rather not do it alone." She made a futile attempt to smooth down her hair. It puffed right back up, so she sighed and sat down.

The others finished eating and they all returned upstairs. The girl introduced herself as Rebecca Sweet. ("Daughter of Charlotte Sweet, formerly Charlotte La Bouff, married to the owner of the large-scale business Sweet's Treats, famous for their Chocolate Bourbons, please remember that so I can tell my mother I told my friends about her.") Even when they had their satchels packed, they didn't take much, or at least Nancy and Rapunzel didn't. Rapunzel had packed one of many cheap notes-books bound by thin cardboard, a rubber sealed, enchanted glass inkwell, a refillable glass ink pen, and a magical memo book which Rapunzel hadn't noticed but Rebecca had pointed out to her as the book where she'd be better off stowing her schedule. And, of course, the wrapped cinnamon bread, tucked into a corner so it wouldn't get smushed.

Just as Nancy had predicted, upon entering the building for classes they got spectacularly lost. The one saving grace was that they weren't the only ones.

Despite the first years going out separately, they somehow managed to keep crossing paths with one another. The four girls ran into a group of Slytherin first years just as lost as them, and saw a pair of Hufflepuff students wandering around. It wasn't long before Rapunzel and her roommates were joined by two other Ravenclaw first years. Ten minutes into it and they stumbled upon a kindly old witch's ghost who stopped her knitting to guide them to their destination.

Classes for Rapunzel was a very exciting concept and during that first week the classes at Hogwarts did not disappoint.

For them, September 1st started on a Wednesday. Their first period was Defense Against the Dark Arts. By the time they managed to find the class it was twenty minutes past the time class was supposed to start. Yet the teacher hadn't shown up. It was only when the last straggler came in at about half an hour past that a dark, billowing cloud materialised in the centre of the room.

Out stepped a tall witch with wide, staring eyes and stiff black robes. Her black hair swayed down her back as she marched to the board and introduced herself as Professor Violet Parr. She told them that until very recently she had spent a couple years being an Auror, as many others in her family had been, and had accepted a teaching position at Hogwarts a little over two years prior.

Not much formal teaching was done in her class that day, which struck a good chord with the first years. They asked her questions, about what it was like to be an Auror, the things she had done, the places she had gone to. She answered some questions and refused some others, and after that class Rapunzel was more knowledgeable about water-focused spells, proper tunnel excavation procedures, and the Kelpie Incident of 2002.

As Nancy put it, "I did not expect to get schooled today, but it happened."

Their next class was History of Magic, taught by a cheery, bespectacled wizard named Professor Milo Thatch. Whatever Rapunzel would've learnt in that class immediately went flying out the window by the appearance of a cat. A big, white, _gloriously fluffy_ cat.

"This is Fluffy, everyone say hello. She likes to critique my lectures and ask questions. Please don't mind her."

All of class Rapunzel could focus on nothing but the cat. It was so enchanting, its soft fur gently shining in the morning sun. She wanted to pet it _so_ badly – she had never petted a cat, or a dog, or a frog, or an owl, or a chicken, or anything that wasn't her Pascal.

She only noticed the end of the class by the cat leaving. She had to watch her second cat of the day go without even properly saying hello and it _broke_ her heart.

Something in the world must've heard her thoughts, and it either really loved her or absolutely despised her. After that Rapunzel began to notice cats everywhere – around corners, above windows, a few even twining in between the feet of passer-byes. Often out of reach, usually ignoring her. And it didn't matter what her roommates would say, she would still go running after them, trying to talk to them, get them to notice her and like her.

The owls that came at breakfast were too busy to spare her their time, and she hadn't met a pet toad yet. And she loved Pascal, she really did, but she couldn't _help_ it.

It wasn't even that she wanted to find friends in them so badly. She _loved_ them. She had this strong belief, this strong conviction, that she really, _desperately_ wanted all of the animals she ever came across for the rest of her life to know that she loved them and wished for their happiness. What she had told the hat had not been a lie – she had every intention of loving the entire world no matter what. She had told herself that ever since she had learnt of the existence of an outside world and those words still held strong.

But as far as cats went, she never got as lucky as she did that first day. It was right after that first history lesson and coming back from lunch that Rapunzel happened upon the greatest sight she had ever seen.

It was not a one cat. Nor was it two cats.

In an alcove of a corridor there was a _kitten pile_.

They rolled around under the window of the little nook, tussling and playing under the bright afternoon sun. The students who walked past ignored them as if they were a perfectly normal occurrence in day-to-day school life.

But that wasn't true for Rapunzel's life. Without a moment's thought she sped right across the corridor and dropped to the floor in front of them. She held her hand out, palm up, near shaking with anticipation.

Behind her the other three girls wandered over.

"They _are_ cute. But do they belong to someone? Is it safe?" Meena asked.

"Of course they belong to someone." Rebecca said. "The cats that come here aren't just any cats. They're familiars. They have to be, to be inside Hogwarts. These cats look really young … they might still be training to be familiars. Witches and wizards do that – bring creatures who they're still forming a bond with to a place that's heavily condensed with magic. Or sometimes familiars might bring their families when they travel."

Rapunzel wasn't really listening to them. The kittens had taken notice of her. She sat very, very still as a few came up to sniff her hand. One of them was rather pretty, a black and brown stripped one with yellow eyes. She was also the boldest, for she rubbed her cheek against Rapunzel's hand and came closer.

The others took her lead and did the same. Rapunzel's hands were engulfed in the softest, fluffiest, wriggly little bodies that she had ever borne witness to. They were _purring_. They _liked_ her.

"Oiiiii. Anyone home?" Nancy's hand came into view. It waved in front of her face.

"Yes, yes, I'm here …"

"We have class, remember?"

"Mmhm."

"You coming?"

"I will … you go ahead. I'll catch up." One of her hands was busy scratching behind an ear. The other hand had a little orange and white splotched kitten pushing his head up into her palm, asking for attention. Rapunzel decided she liked him best.

"And I'm supposed to believe that."

"I _will_. I really will … go without me. I'll be there soon …"

They dawdled in the alcove a while longer while Rapunzel played with the kittens, but eventually they listened to her and left. She was glad to see them go; at least they wouldn't be late and get in trouble. _She_ had every intention to stay there for as long as the kittens would let her; she'd even skip dinner if she had to.

Her plans were dashed to pieces by the appearance of Mrs. Packard, the Hogwarts caretaker.

The one warning Rapunzel got was the sound of heavy boots that came clomping down the deserted corridor. An old woman with a bun of frizzy grey hair and a face like a pessimistic prune rounded the corner, took one look at the scene, and audibly sighed. Before Rapunzel could even process what happened next, the woman made a sharp, clicking sound in her throat and in a blink, the kittens scattered. Rapunzel was left to sit alone on the floor and gape up at her.

"You have two options, child. Either you let me take you to class, or you spend the rest of your evening in my company. Which will it be?"

Rapunzel's brain finally rebooted. She took in the situation and came to a horrible conclusion. If she stayed here, then instead of being in her House after classes ended and playing with Pascal or doing whatever else she wanted, she would have to spend an entire evening someplace that she likely did not want to visit doing she-knew-not-what. It would surely be a punishment for her being very naughty, like cleaning chamber pots or writing hundreds and hundreds of lines until her arms fell off. Or, worst of all – being taken to the Headmistress's office where she would have to say that she skipped her classes and then her mother would have to be called. And then other people would know that she had been bad, all her new friends and new classmates and new teachers, and they would be very disappointed in her.

She would make them sad and they would no longer think kindly of her and she would have to carry all of that with her _forever._ The mere thought of such a terrible outcome had Rapunzel jumping to her feet.

"Am I in trouble?!" Her heart hammered in her chest, her entire being now filled with a horrible, awful, sinking feeling that pushed her down until Rapunzel was sure she would sink through the floor from the weight of it.

The caretaker didn't seem to notice the gravity of the situation, nor the panic that vibrated through Rapunzel's body. She only raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "… No. You will only be in trouble if you don't get to class. Come along, now." With that she took Rapunzel's hand in her own and led her away.

On the way down, Mrs. Packard suddenly snapped out her wand. There was a loud crack, and something grey and splotchy fell out of the ceiling, along with a load of dirty water right where Mrs. Packard and Rapunzel would've been. It let out wailing shriek.

"Mim, I see you there. Don't you try and cross me."

"BAH! _BAH!"_

A volley of garbage came hurtling at them. Mrs. Packard didn't hesitate. She swiped her wand and the garbage changed course, instead heading directly for the wild haired, grizzled lump of a spirit that flailed in the air. The ghost went speeding out the stairway and through a window, screaming profanities in her wake.

Rapunzel stared out from behind Mrs. Packard, at where the creature had disappeared off to. Mrs. Packard tucked her wand into a pocket of her baggy overalls and dusted her hands off, as if what they'd encountered was nothing than a rogue spider.

"See that? That was Mim. Just be firm and she'll leave you alone, nothin' to it. Did anyone in your House warn you about her?"

"… yes?"

"Good. Now stop your cowering, we need to go. Hurry it up."

All in all, Mrs. Packard didn't seem like a mean-spirited person to Rapunzel, even without considering what happened on the stairway. She hadn't even looked all that upset about finding Rapunzel where she had, or guiding her to where she needed to be. Rapunzel later learnt that no one in the school was really all that scared of the Hogwarts caretaker or held any strong displeasure regarding her. In fact, the students were more than likely to get worse punishments from the other professors than they were from her.

According to the seniors she spoke to, an evening spent with Mrs. Packard usually involved sitting in one of the dilapidated armchairs in her dingy office and knitting scarves and socks for the Hogwarts Imāris' with her, sometimes with a dented kettle of bitter nettle tea in company. If she found students messing around in the hallways, she'd shoo them away with the air of a resigned goatherd. If they left a mess in their wake then she would either have them clean it up (if she bothered to put much energy into catching them – which she normally didn't) or wave her wand and clean it herself.

The few books Rapunzel had read over the years involving schools and caretakers had painted an entirely different picture. It was a strange thing for her to know that her momentary panic had been for nothing.

The class Rapunzel had almost missed was none other than Professor Fredricksen's, who taught Potions in one of the larger classrooms located in the dungeons of the school. The Ravenclaws shared that class with the Hufflepuffs, and they'd been in the middle of getting out their notes-books and ink pens when Mrs. Packard rapped on the open door.

Professor Fredricksen nodded to her, waved Rapunzel in, and that was that. No ridicule, no punishment.

"I assume you must be Miss Lockewood?" Rapunzel ducked in her seat next to Rebecca and meekly nodded. "Very well, then. I don't believe I've introduced myself properly yet, so might as well."

"My full title is Professor Carl Fredricksen, formerly Healer Fredricksen." He waved his wand and a chalk piece floated into the air. It wrote _Professor C. Fredricksen_ on the board, and below that _Hr. Fredricksen._ "I was a Healer at St. Mungo's for 40 years before I took up teaching. I have been a professor at Hogwarts for 19 years now, longer than all of the current students attending this school have been alive, as it were."

"Potions is a subject that requires all of your mental aptitude and focus. You must be precise in your methods, sure in your application. I will be blunt – this is a demanding and rigorous subject. You must learn your theory well before you can even begin to suitably apply it. If you pay attention in this class and give this subject your best, then I guarantee it will reward you ten-fold."

"Now, as a former Healer, I cannot allow any of you to attempt these potions without first going over the proper safety procedures. Accidents prevented will always be better than a potential life lost. This week we will not be making any potions. What we _will_ do is go over the basics, and only when I am assured that every single one of you can attempt the first potion with only a little guidance will we begin, and not a moment sooner."

"Once a week each House will have theory classes with me. They are to ensure that we all get a chance to look over the procedure for brewing the potion beforehand, the effects and behaviours of each of the ingredients, and the common errors that are likely to arise during the potion making and how to correct them. These things will also be reviewed at the beginning of every practical class, with the recipe written on the board for reference. All of you are welcome to ask questions and seek help at any time. In this class I encourage them; they are both a matter of safety as well as a chance to learn."

After that they spent the class with their textbooks open to the first chapter (or at least, whoever had brought the textbook; Rapunzel hadn't), listening to Professor Fredricksen lecture them on the workings of a standard Potions lab and what kind of practices they were expected to follow. They took notes when he told them to, and underlined sections of the text that he mentioned were important.

Not only would they have a practical in Potions for the mid-term featuring one of five potions that they were expected to learn before then, but also answer questions on standard lab procedures during the written part of the exam. Along with that, they had to learn the properties, maintenance, and uses of the ingredients and tools that they would be working with and the general Potions knowledge that they would find scattered throughout their textbook.

The second half of the class was spent going over the syllabus and what parts of it would carry more weightage during the exams. By the time class ended at 4:15 P.M. the students were stumbling out bleary-eyed and awfully tired for having spent most of the day sitting down, with the message that next practical class they had to come wearing sturdy boots (which delighted Rapunzel immensely) and carrying dragonhide gloves or they would not be allowed inside.

Herbology class with Professor Adam Donadieu went far better; it quickly earned its place as one of Rapunzel's more favoured subjects. For one thing, it was more actively hands-on and for another, they got to have it outside. Three times a week the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins would share the class bright and early in one of five greenhouses.

Professor Donadieu was an exceptionally large wizard. He had a humped, deformed back, a lopsided face, and a head that looked misplaced upon his wide shoulders. Many of the students hesitated on entering the class for the first time. It was very easy to be weary of him.

And yet … the moment he opened his mouth, he spoke in one of the kindest voices that Rapunzel had ever heard. He moved his large bulk around the greenhouse with a skill and efficiency that showed years of practice. His wide, calloused hands handled the plants he presented to them with immense care, and whatever questions the students asked he answered them patiently.

After a brief introduction in that first lesson, he had them sitting in groups of five and drawing one of three types of small, potted plants that he placed on the table before each group. Their homework was to label their drawing and submit it next class.

On Thursdays, the class the Ravenclaws had after Herbology was Charms. It was taught by a stern, red headed witch named Professor Eilonwy Llyr. Over her shoulder there floated a glowing sphere that she called a 'bauble'.

"Charms is one of the most useful and versatile branches of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Cast a spell and I guarantee nine times out of ten it will be a charm. There is much to cover in this class and much that you will learn here, so pay attention."

They were informed quickly after that not a single one of them would be casting any spells in her class until at least a month from then, if not longer depending on their progress. They took notes on incantations, word pronunciations, how wand movement effected spell casting, and some basics in magical theory and the various natures of their magics and the magic found in other living beings. They were given two pages worth of homework and assigned reading by the end of it.

Transfiguration was a class taught by a witch named Professor Amaya Rāo. She had grey hair and coppery skin, and her first class came as something of a shock to the first years.

The moment the professor stepped into the classroom she dropped her arm. That is, her entire arm literally dropped out of its sleeve and fell onto the floor.

Then the arm – which, it should be noted, was made _entirely of bones_ – somehow got itself up onto the fingers and started skittering around on the floor and in between the desks. The students shrieked and dove out of the way, someone started crying, and the teacher apparently noticed none of this as she casually strode to the front of the room.

She rolled up the left sleeve of her robes and the bone arm went click-click-clickity-click to her. It jumped up and reattached itself to a blackened stump that constituted her shoulder. The witch let the sleeve drop and crossed her arms, bone and flesh. She cast them a grim smile.

"When I was very young and very foolish, I messed around with Transfiguration. What I did was so terrible that not only did I lose my arm, but after many lengthy, exhausting, and painful procedures, these bones were the only things they could salvage from it. If any of you mess around in my class, you may consider yourself _lucky_ if this is the worst that happens to you."

The class was dead silent in the wake of that. The notes they took were complicated, and she went through them quickly, but they kept their heads down and pens moving. All of them were thoroughly intimidated, if not outright spooked.

It wasn't even that she spoke to them harshly or that she looked very frightening in general. In fact, she had something in the way of a wide, grandmotherly face, with smile lines, dimpled chin, and all. But she had left a lasting impression on them and it showed.

The classes of Hogwarts, though there were only six subjects for the first years, kept them very busy. Unlike the rest of the student body, each class for the first years was one and a half hours long. They were held six days a week, with one of the days being a half day. The half day for the Ravenclaws fell on a Saturday, and it was only then that Rapunzel went in search of the library.

She'd been meaning to go ever since she'd learnt there _was_ a library. But whatever part of her day hadn't been taken up by school had instead been occupied by playing with Pascal, exploring her common room, and getting to know the people in her House better – the more people she talked to, the more people she would meet, the more people she met, the more potential friends she had.

Rapunzel was intensely interested in getting to know as many people as she could – to observe them, to listen to them, to speak with them, to learn them. It was amazing just how many different kinds of fascinating people existed in the school, let alone in the entire world.

She was trying to balance that and also her schoolwork with her various accumulated hobbies; just because she was in a new environment did not mean Rapunzel wasn't any less interested in learning new and fun skills. She had gone in search of the library with the excuse that she was doing it for her Charms homework, but just in case she had also brought an empty notes-book and a cloth bag with sticks of charcoal in it. Even if she couldn't paint there without causing a fuss, at _least_ she could get away with drawing … hopefully.

According to those she'd asked, the library was located in the part of the school building closest to the greenhouses, on the third floor. It was exactly why she stuffed food in her bag beforehand. Saturday mornings meant double Herbology, and Rapunzel didn't want to waste time going all the way to the Great Hall for lunch only to retrace her steps.

Still in her work boots, Rapunzel munched on the sandwich she'd constructed as she followed the flow of the students. Up a winding flight of stairs and three turns later, there soon appeared two large double doors. Rapunzel brushed the crumbs from her hands and hurried towards them.

At the mouth of the entrance, Rapunzel saw a sight that stopped her in her tracks. Her mouth tipped open and her eyes grew very, very round.

From what she had heard about the library and according to a general map of the school that had been conveniently tacked up on the Ravenclaw notice board, Rapunzel knew that the library occupied a small corner of the main building. In the map it had looked to be about the size of the average classroom.

Rapunzel had come in search of the library with expectations of a dusty, dim room crammed more full of tables than bookshelves and with various outdated texts strewn across the floor. She had expected herself stay for about an hour at most, find one or two books that sounded interesting enough for light perusing, and then leave.

What she got instead was a hall large enough to rival the main entrance hall in height. The whole thing did not just contain bookshelves. No, it was _dominated_ by bookshelves. There had to be _at least_ 40- no 60- no, _more_ than that- bookshelves where she stood alone. All of them were crammed full of books, going up and up and up until the top of the shelves reached a ceiling so high it surely had a cloud or two crowding around it. The bookshelves snaked off into the distance, seemingly reaching the very corners of the place. Above her head, the closest walls to her had banisters – _there was a second floor_. And a _third_ floor. And they all had bookshelves and windows and hidden corners and so many other places that she didn't yet know of.

Directly in front of Rapunzel was a wide, open area – possibly the _only_ open area as big as that – filled with tables of all shapes and sizes, many of them covered in volumes and volumes of books. Students from different years lounged in them, some by themselves and some clustered into their own little groups. Books floated through the air at intervals, either flying to one of the tables or disappearing into the shelves, likely returning to where they had been.

In spite of the place being full of bookshelves and the windows being so far apart, the library was somehow airy and bright and full of some kind of soft, filtered light. It was … it was _welcoming_. It _felt_ like that. It felt like comfort and a home and a hug all at once.

Like one in a trance, Rapunzel wandered into the hall. She walked past the front area, past the tables, until she too entered the shelves.

The shelves stood all around her. Surrounding her, engulfing her … endless. Rapunzel spun in a slow circle, fingers buzzing and heart fluttering in her throat. Hundreds of books, thousands of books, piled into the shelves. She imagined she could hear all the voices contained in these books, transported through years, through lifetimes. Waiting for someone to pick them up and hear them speak. Waiting for her.

All these books … so many books …

Books … _books_ … books, books, _books,_ books, _books!_ Books! BOOKS! BOOKS! _BOOKS! **BOOKS!**_

She ran. Her feet took her through shelves after shelves after shelves. Titles blurred together, about things she vaguely remembered, things she had never heard of. One of the words caught her eye – golden lettering, a bright, green book – and she grabbed it from the shelf. More books joined it, until they grew too much for her arms and Rapunzel ended up on the floor with her riches scattered around her.

Page after page she read, barely paying attention to the words that filtered through her head. When she reached the end of her hoard, she went and gathered some more.

And so, Rapunzel managed to not only spend hours and hours in the library but eventually miss her supper and then the curfew. She only realised this when she woke with a start and it was the middle of the night.

But that didn't stop her. Within minutes, Rapunzel located a lamp and carried it to her reading. When Saturday night became Sunday morning she still read. She only stopped to run and grab a quick lunch, make up a parcel for dinner, and tell at least one of her housemates where she would be and that she was still alive. Then she returned to her books and picked up where she'd left off and kept going.

She didn't even return to her dorm for the night. Monday morning rolled around and Rapunzel went to her classes without a breakfast and with only whatever she'd carried in her satchel from the previous week.

She spent the entire day in a daze. What they taught her she didn't know. She was barely even aware of what classes she was going to, only that she went wherever her housemates went. And homework? Essays? Who knew what those were? Who had time for that? The only thing filling Rapunzel's world were the words she had inhaled and the desperate need to find some more. She _had_ to find more, she _needed_ to.

Somehow, she had gotten it into her head that she must now spend her entire waking life dedicated to reading every single book the Hogwarts library had to offer until she had read all of them or else _surely_ the whole library would disappear like a dream. Or she would die. Or some terrible disaster would happen and the library would disappear _and_ she would die. She didn't know and she didn't want to find out. All she knew was this gasping, desperate feeling that was in a race against whatever would take the books and the library away from her and she had to finish reading them all right this very instant or else.

The moment classes ended she returned to the library. She barely noticed that she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before or the one before that. She was hardly aware of the fact that her food intake had fallen dramatically. What mattered most was the idea that had lodged itself in her brain and which she let take her wherever it wanted her to go.

This was not a new occurrence for her. In the confines of her tower Rapunzel had always done whatever she'd wanted to do. If she suddenly wanted to drop everything and learn ventriloquy then that is what she did. If she wanted to spend three days crafting a complex structure of crystals and glass to make shapes out of optical illusions, then she would do so. If she wanted to eat nothing but cottage cheese for a week and read an epic saga out loud to herself until she had learnt all 102 lines of it and could repeat it from memory with made up song numbers and an interpretive dance sequence to match then there had literally been no one and nothing to stop her.

Of course, she could have taken a moment to sit down and think about the obvious: if she really did try to read her way through the entire library, then it would likely take her not a few days or a few weeks but perhaps a few years. Maybe even more years than she would get to spend at Hogwarts.

In that case, she could have also realised that her best bet for _staying_ at Hogwarts was to pay attention in her classes and keep her grades up, and that if she was really so determined to spend a few years going at it then at least she had enough time to set aside for keeping in touch with her friends, enjoying her school years, and steadily making progress through the library in reasonable increments.

But that just wasn't how Rapunzel did things. The urge had set up camp in her brain and lit a fire, and she'd come running with a bucket of fuel and made that fire into a raging inferno. If an idea took over her life, then _she let it happen._ Things like new responsibilities or taking care of her health or other such inconveniences didn't even blip on the radar of Things She's Supposed To Care About because never in her young life had Rapunzel met such a concept as time management and also sleep is for the weak.

It was exactly one week later that this philosophy landed her in the Hospital Wing.

Rapunzel cowered under the blankets of one of the beds, perfectly awake and utterly embarrassed. Sitting in one of the chairs beside her was an older Ravenclaw student named Kubo Fujioka.

From what he'd said, he had been the nearest Prefect they could contact after she'd suddenly collapsed in class to take her up to the nurse. It wasn't anything serious, he assured her, just some exhaustion and her body needing a few days of proper rest, but he'd decided to stay until she'd woken up to ensure she was alright and help her back to the dorms.

It was a very kind and thoughtful gesture. It was one which Rapunzel really, _really_ wished he hadn't done.

Because now she had another person bearing witness to her _absolute shame._ Her fainting spell must have disrupted the class. She'd probably inconvenienced her teacher and upset everyone. She'd made people _worry._ She'd caused a _scene._ And here she was inconveniencing an _older_ student, who had somehow ended up concerned enough for her well-being that he'd gone _out of his way_ for her.

It was more than her little heart could bear. The moment she understood all this she started to cry.

She buried her face into the pillow and let out pitiful sobs. She knew her friends were probably still worried about her, which meant she would have to get up at some point and go find them. But she didn't _want_ to do that. She _never_ wanted to get up _ever_ again.

From underneath layers of blankets, she heard the chair next to her bed creak. "… does it hurt anywhere?"

"No," she hiccuped. "The only thing that hurts is my heart. I'm truly, bery su-sorry this happened. I'm sorry I made you skip class, I didn't- … I didn't mean to do that."

"It's fine, I don't blame you. Is there anything you need?"

There were a lot of things she could think of. For one thing, she needed to go back in time and tell her body not to faint. She needed to be rid of that horrid memory and for everyone else to forget it too. She needed to roll herself up in her self-pity and be left alone to stay there for possibly a decade at least. She needed a tissue to wipe her blotchy, aching face. She needed … her mother, or someone to pat her head and tell her everything would be alright.

Not having any existing filter at that moment and feeling too miserable to care, Rapunzel blubbered all this out in-between sobs.

Somewhere near the end of that spiel, Rapunzel felt the blankets pull back just a little from her head. A hand brushed the hair away from her temple and continued to lightly brushed it.

"… there, there … You're alright … it will be alright … don't worry."

Rapunzel peeked out. The older boy was hunched over, trying to reach her from over the blanket nest she'd made. Even with an eye-patch covering one of his eyes, he looked awkward.

That … somehow brought to mind the ridiculousness of the situation. She felt a little silly. Still very upset, but also silly. Unbidden, she felt a giggle interrupt her tears.

He noticed. "You feel better? Oh, right, tissue-" Kubo's hand left her hair. It returned with a tissue, and Rapunzel took it. The disposable tissue had been magically altered to be extra absorbent, soothing to dry skin, and give a cooling effect. Rapunzel rubbed it over her face and felt the tears and snot leave. It left her skin feeling tingly.

He offered her water, but Rapunzel would've had to sit up to drink it, so instead she covered herself with the blankets again. She waffled for a bit, undecided between getting her return to the dorms done and over with or pretending to fall asleep so that maybe Kubo would go away and she could roll around in bed and spend a few hours feeling sorry for herself.

Eventually a hand tapped the region where her shoulder was supposed to be and she heard him ask if she was crying again.

Rapunzel heaved a deep sigh. She'd waited too long and, anyways, she wasn't sure if she could be convincing enough to fake sleep.

Without warning, she threw the blankets off and sat up. She held her hands out. "Water, please."

Kubo gave her the water. Rapunzel scooted to the edge of the bed until her bare feet hung over the floor and she sat facing him. Her uniform was terribly rumpled – had been that way for a while but it wasn't as if she took the time to fold it up properly at night. From the clock on the wall she'd only slept for two hours; it was still morning and nearing lunchtime.

Next to her bed the window was open. It allowed a late summer breeze to pass through. But most importantly, it let in sunlight. While she'd been sleeping the sun had warmed her hair. It now coated her bare legs, glancing off of the hair on her calves. It made Rapunzel remember something important.

"Did you see a little green creature with me? When you came to get me? He's small and reptile and he has a curly tail. He's my pet."

"I might have. I think he disappeared over there." Kubo pointed to a window ledge where there sat a small flower pot. Rapunzel got out of bed and hurried over. There, curled up behind a pebble, was a grey lump. When Rapunzel gave a poke, it opened its eyes and turned green.

"_Pascal!_" She lifted him into the air and twirled. Pascal chirped indignantly, so Rapunzel brought him close and hugged him to her cheek. "Oh, I'm so _happy_ to see you! Are you okay? Were you scared? I hope you weren't. Did you have a good nap?"

She cooed at him some more, until she remembered that she still had company. She bounded back to the bed to stand in front of Kubo.

"I'm ready. I want to go back."

Kubo didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? You didn't seem like you wanted to earlier."

"I do. I'm ready. I'd like to go back, please."

Rapunzel got her stockings and shoes on. (The stockings were a lot cleaner than she remembered them; someone must have cleaned them while she'd been asleep. She absently realised that she'd missed laundry day, and that her clothes probably smelled.) She followed Kubo as he checked in with the nurse one last time before he walked them back to the dorms. Her mind whirred as it processed the thought that had struck her earlier.

Perhaps it was time she found a new sunspot …

* * *

**A/N:**

**YEEEE THAT WAS FUN**

**Could you all see the anime sparkles in Rapunzel's eyes? Bc that's what I was going for. I hope everyone had as much fun reading this as I did writing it :D**

**Cast List:**

**Lelani Ginna, Head of Ravenclaw: my OC**

**Carl Fredricksen: Up**

**Sebastian Daniels: my OC**

**Headmistress Kidagakash "Kida" Nedakh: Atlantis: The Lost Empire**

**Evelyn "Eevie" Croode: Eep, The Croods**

**Augustus "Gus" Bernstein: Guy, The Croods**

**Maria in the Painting: Maria, The Book of Life**

**Meenakshi Hargrove: my OC**

**Nancy Chen: my OC**

**Rebecca Sweet: OC child of Charlotte La Bouff, The Princess and the Frog**

**Violet Parr: The Incredibles**

**Milo Thatch, Head of Hufflepuff: Atlantis: The Lost Empire**

**Mrs. Packard: Atlantis: The Lost Empire**

**Mim: The Sword in the Stone**

**Adam Donadieu, Head of Gryffindor: Quasimoto, The Hunchback of Notre Dame**

**Eilonwy Llyr: The Black Cauldron (book version)**

**Amaya Rāo, Head of Slytherin: my OC**

**Kubo Fujioka: Kubo and the Two Strings**

**Notes:**

**\- Wow that's a lot of cats. I was not expecting this many cats but ykw if fanfiction Hogwarts wants a Gatos de la Vega situation like they have in Chile then who am I to say no**

**If you're wondering why Rapunzel hasn't gone to the owlery to pet owls it's bc she hasn't found it yet**

**\- Yes I know that the Hospital Wing is supposed to be on the 6th floor but to me that sounds unfair to the students who live below ground so now it's on the 3rd floor**

**\- While writing the description for the Ravenclaw room my brain suddenly thought of the song Blue (Da Ba Dee) by Eiffel 65 and let me tell you it's a strange experience writing fantasy while hearing techno music**

**\- Listen, I did not spend four years in chemical engineering to deal with the logical fallacy that is the 1st Potions class in Philosopher's Stone. Or for that matter the way potions themselves are created (the ingredients? the procedures? any of it? It's there in the books and none of it makes sense? Listen logic needs nonsense but nonsense also needs logic okay magic needs CONSISTENCY and none of this is adding up and I Am Confusion?)**

**Also, in canon Transfiguration is treated like the super serious important subject and Charms as the light and fun one. Yet whenever magic things are done in the books it almost always ends up involving a charm of some sort (no really, do other types of spells exist that aren't curses, hexes, jinxes, and charms? If Charms is such a funsy-wonsy subject then why is almost every functional spell that's mentioned a charm? How many types of spells are there really? What's the classification? Are there subgroups? What is the basis of a spell being considered difficult? I need answers) but Transfiguring things for practical use isn't mentioned nearly as much. Seeing that, I've assigned the professors for these subjects accordingly**

**\- Looking over this chapter, I ... feel like it's a little too information heavy. And foreshadowing heavy. But I've reread it too much and now my brain is mildly cooked (I actually had to cut out whole sections bc even I could tell they were too dense) If you can, could you tell me what you think of this? Was there too much info dumping? Did the foreshadowing stick out too much? Did it get in the way? Was it confusing? I'd like to know.**

**\- I'm really out here pulling OCs from my Stories I Have Yet To Write folder, aren't I? A part of it has to do with filling in the empty corners but the majority of it is the result of me banging my head against my laptop trying to figure out a fun and interesting cast list for this fic without resorting to tv shows and non-english movies likE THANKS A WHOLE LOT FOR ALL THAT A REPRESENTATION WESTERN MEDIA YOU REALLY DONE ME A SOLID BRO**

**... I'm sorry. I'm brown, I'm bitter, and this is one of the few ways I know how to let out my feelings nonviolently and effectively. And I figured if I'm going to write self indulgent fanfic in the year 2020 then I might as well write the things I want to see more of in the world, right?**

**\- Speaking of OCs, on behalf of Nancy I'd like to apologise for that info dump back there. At this age Nancy basically _is_ an info dump, and she has yet to develop a sense of tact or any kind of decent filter. And before anyone asks, Meena is fully Indian, not mixed, born and raised in Britain. There's a reason for her surname that'll be revealed later.**

**These two and other Ravenclaw kids will feature more heavily in Book 2, which is Rapunzel's book.**

**\- I think I've figured out why I keep writing these lengthy author's notes. It's because I'd subconsciously wanted to leave messages to my future self who'll come back and edit so that hopefully she'd know what the heck was going through my head when I wrote this.**

**If you have any questions please leave them in the reviews, I'll be happy to answer them. :D**


	9. Ch 7: Hiccup's POV

Chapter 7:

Hiccup's first week of Hogwarts and the surprise that followed it.

* * *

**A/N:**

**May I offer you a chapter in these trying times?**

**\- While writing this chapter I heard the song _Come True_ by Khai Dreams (ft. Forrest.) and can I say WOW it fits! It now has a permanent place on the playlist for Book 4.**

**\- The editing here is rough and everything feels scattered but I wanted to get this out to everyone quickly so have fun and harvest the serotonin!**

* * *

School life was ... strange.

For one thing, Hiccup's days were a lot more structured than he was used to. If he wasn't in his dorm room, he was attending class. If he wasn't in class, then he was probably eating. Great Hall, classes, Great Hall, dorm. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Even though he'd already read about boarding school and knew he should've expected this, it was something else entirely to experience first-hand.

In a way, it held a kind of peace, a sense of certainty even. In the back of his head Hiccup wondered if this was how adults expected to produce an ideal, certain future for themselves; raise children in an orderly environment and thus grow an orderly society.

It went against every Viking survival instinct he'd ever had hammered into his head.

There were, however, some bullying attempts, to add a touch of flavour to what now constituted as Hiccup's bland-as-porridge life. But that only lasted a few days into the first week. Snotlout, or Steinn Jorgenson, as others knew him, had been the chief contender for Bully #1 back on Berk. He'd been sorted into Slytherin, with the others going off to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff respectively.

Of all the miserable luck that drenched Hiccup's life, they must've somehow been running short of it when the schedules were decided because not only was Snotlout separated from his remaining two cronies this side of the ocean but the first year Slytherins did not share a single class with the Hufflepuffs. At best, Snotlout would have to resort to trying to find Hiccup in the corridors to get any decent bullying done.

He tried. Back on Berk, with the sparse buildings, ragged scenery, and all eyes on the Viking Reject, Hiccup would've had to run for a bit if he wanted to get Snotlout off his tail. But Hogwarts wasn't like that. There were more people, more distractions, more hiding places. If he heard Snotlout stomping after him through the corridors, all Hiccup had to do was cause a minor distraction and slip away. Misdirection and subterfuge: the hard-earned tools of the Hiccup survival manual for the rare times he _didn't_ want to be seen.

And it wasn't as if anyone knew what Snotlout was on about when he went yelling "HICCUP!" through the crowds. By then most of the students, if someone were to point him out to them, knew Hiccup as "Haddock", "him", "the skinny one", "the quiet one", or most popularly, "Who?"

After a few days of this, Snotlout gave up. Most of the reason he'd often tried to beat up Hiccup was because Hiccup would often try to involve himself in Viking affairs and considering Hiccup was never any _good_ at Viking affairs, anyone who saw him would try to push him out; at some point it became a matter of public safety considering the disasters that followed wherever Hiccup went. The other Viking children held the same philosophy, some more than others. And it was usually Snotlout who had other Vikings watching that he wanted to impress.

Here they had no one. Apparently, it was too much effort for him to go Hiccup Hunting just for a laugh or two. Hiccup never got in his way now so what was the point?

Hiccup the runt, Hiccup the mistake, Hiccup the useless - no one had to deal with that anymore.

The moment Hiccup had stepped into the school it was as if the last spark of interest he had in anything died in him. That restless itch to do something, to discover something new or find another way to make something of himself - it was gone.

In an unfamiliar ocean, he was a boat without sails.

In a school so big it was easy to slip through the cracks. To be nothing and no one. For so much of Hiccup's life, if he wasn't trying to be seen then he was often trying to disappear. Here he was invisible.

That was fine. It was the only outcome left for him. What was the point, after all, in trying to prove himself when he had already failed at the one thing he was supposed to do?

He missed home. He missed the forge and working the metals with Gobber. He missed being able to run off and find the ocean wherever he went. He missed the smell of salt and sleet and sheep wool that seeped through everything. He missed the wild magic of the land.

He missed the home that stood as evidence, as a symbol, that he _belonged_ to somewhere. Sturdy and unyielding – it was the surest thing he knew. It stood as a testament to being the one thing that could withstand all the world trying to sink it into the ocean and remain standing no matter how many lifetimes passed.

But what did he do when even that rejected him? What did he do when all he had left to him was his grandfather's name?

His island was gone. His anchor was gone. He was another soul lost to the waves, wandering and listless.

The days went by in a haze, each one blending into the next. He attended classes he didn't pay attention to, brought back homework he didn't do, and went through the motions of existing. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Before he knew it a week had passed. Hiccup sat in the back of History class, slumped over his desk and thinking of nothing. The teacher must have been doing something interesting because the students around Hiccup were raising their hands and talking. But Hiccup didn't really notice - it was all background noise at this point.

Instead, he was following a fly.

See, another thing he was getting used to what with being so far south was the larger occurrence of insects in his life. Insects didn't tend to like the cold very much, and even if he'd recently taken to channelling the thoughts of a particularly old and stupid sheep, he could at least admit to himself that he was bored enough to dredge up a mild interest in what the creepy crawlies were up to every now and then.

It was curious thing, seeing what happened when he viewed them through the lens of his magic. They were simple creatures with repetitive sounds. And when there were a group of them together, they created a mesh of interlocking harmonies, like the drip of steady rain from icicled roofs.

This exercise of his usually led him down the road to other questions, like what viewing such creatures in a different way would be like: heat, smell, touch, and so on. But exploring those questions would require effort that he didn't want to give; he'd been doing the listening version for long enough that as long as he had a target in mind he barely had to think while doing it.

So he sat in class with his head rested upon his folded arms, for all appearances asleep at his desk. Out in the corridor the fly bounced against the wall. _Tap ... tap-tap ... tap ..._

It didn't seem deterred by the fact that the it was repeatedly hitting itself against the same wall, nor that the window it might have been aiming for was closed. It's thumping body created an erratic beat, while its wings continued to buzz in earnest. Not even the stray person to wander by was enough to distract the fly from its fixated goal.

It wasn't until sometime later when two people came down the corridor that the fly suddenly changed course and went flying to them. Maybe it was because of their voices, maybe the fly smelled sweat on one of them, maybe it grew a consciousness and decided death by wall wasn't the best way to go, who knew? It went sailing to the larger of the two forms and tried to make a wide loop around the person's head.

It quickly got batted away. But the fly was determined; it tried for another go. This time when the person swatted at it they landed a solid hit. Hiccup could almost imagine he heard the dull thud of the fly's body meeting the metal-

... wait. Metal?

Was it ... it _was_ metal ... not flesh, certainly not hand-shaped ... it was larger, curved somehow ... a hook ...?

Hiccup sat up, suddenly more awake than he'd been all week.

He focused on the voices. One was a professor, he knew her from somewhere. While the other one - the larger one, the one with metal for a hand – he could swear it sounded like- ...

Hiccup was out of his seat and running into the corridor before anyone could react.

The two outside had almost rounded the corner. There was a commotion from behind that made them turn. One of them was tall and thin, wearing the black pointed hat of the school professors. The other was wrapped in a travel cloak and bare-headed, his half-bald head shining a ruddy pink and his blonde moustache combed and braided.

Hiccup ran to them. Without pausing, without thinking, he threw himself into the wide, burly arms of one the only people in the world he could come close to calling his friend.

* * *

It was a good thing for everyone that Thursdays were half days for Hufflepuffs because Hiccup would have refused point blank to return to classes. As it was, the class he'd been sitting in was the last one before lunch and had been drawing to an end when he'd gone running.

While the professor for his class and the other adults had sorted things out, Hiccup had stubbornly clung to Gobber's robes – because it was Gobber, it really was him – and ignored everyone and everything. His professor was kind; according to him Hiccup had been a quiet and overall decent student who'd so far never given him trouble outside of that moment.

When Gobber explained the situation to them, telling them that he was from the same village as Hiccup's and a close family friend, the other two had near fallen over themselves to be accommodating and had mistaken Hiccup's quiet clinginess for shyness.

So it was that Hiccup found himself stepping into a small wooden cabin a few hours after lunch.

The cabin was located somewhere in the direction of the northern end of the school grounds, right along the edges of the Hogwarts forests. If Hiccup went to the backyard he'd get a view of the school greenhouses. He would also see the start of a decent sized vegetable patch that would wind around the house, a wire chicken coop, and the brown and white speckled chickens that pecked their way in between.

Inside the house was pandemonium.

It was as if the house were trying to unpack itself in the span of a minute. Small furniture like cups and twine and scrub brushes jumped from one wooden shelf to another, all of which were hammered into the walls. Clothes, bed sheets, and all manner of other things were being flung about between a trunk and a set of drawers that looked to be having an argument on who got to store what, all while a broom and a mop tried to navigate the floor space. On the rafters were copper pots and pans that bumped and bustled while ropes snatched them out of the air and hung them alongside dried meats and bunches of vegetables.

Gobber moved through the activity the way he moved in his forge: as if he knew where everything was and what it was supposed to do. He worked at the huge stone fireplace making whatever it was he was making, all while his old firedrake Yik-yik crawled nearby, occasionally shooting a flame into the blazing fire.

Hiccup did his best to go from the door to the large table in the corner, and it was less from him suddenly having grown reflexes as it was that the furniture avoided him that he didn't manage to stub his toe or elbow on anything for once, barring the fact that the table bench was a little too eager getting him to sit and Hiccup almost face planted himself.

"Sorry 'bout the mess, laddie, but I wasn't 'specting visitors today – I'm happy to have you, o' course! Very thrilled. Can you believe I got most of these this morning? Bought 'em from a second-hand furniture shop over in, uh ... what's the blasted ... Meadowsweet! That's it. That's what the street's called. The man there said something 'bout a quick "tidy-up" spell getting it all sorted out. Didn' understand a lick of it, but- oi! Stop that!" Gobber smacked the drawer in the middle of a tug-of-war match with the trunk over an old tunic. "So you see, I've made do."

He turned and sent a wave of plates flying through the air to land on the table. A flick of his arm made sparks of magic spiral up the metal and transfigured the hand implement he'd had on into a hook. He shoved the hook into the fire and pulled out a large, dented tea pot. In his hand he picked up a plate and brought them to the table.

The moment he set the plate down, Hiccup wanted to groan. "Oh, come on."

The steaming pile of crumpets continued to steam.

Over the course of the week Hiccup had been introduced to every manner of English food and by that point he was just about fed up with it. He hadn't realised it but he was in no way prepared to deal with what they had to eat so far south. Oh sure, a sugar biscuit or a bite of deep-fried sausage was fine every now and then. He'd gotten a taste of some of that while staying in the mansion and visiting the inn, but other than that his meals had mainly been whatever he was used to.

But for the life of him he could not understand why all the food served in the school had to have so much sugar and dairy and fat in them, or how people could stand to eat that every day. It was wasteful, and surely eating such rich foods all the time was enough to make a person sick. The breakfast items were often either mostly sugar or mostly butter. The other mealtimes were just as bad. They literally had sweets after supper – they called it "pudding", apparently – every _single_ evening. It was _normal_ here. Hiccup had had to watch as one boy shovelled an entire thing of fluffy white cream and glazed fruits into his mouth for three days in a row. It was enough to make him stick to meats and greens and leave the meals early.

And now Gobber had taken to it. Ugh.

Gobber saw the look on his face and barked a laugh. "Ah-ah-ah, none o' that. You'll be fine. What? You expect'n poison?"

"... no." Of course not. Even before his mother had died, he and his father had been eating at Gobber's for years.

Gobber poured the dark, bitter tea into their cups, a small cup for Hiccup and a tankard-sized one for himself. He set the pot on a folded newspaper improvised as a tea-cosy and shooed away Nessi who'd been sniffing too close. "Go on, then. Give it a try."

Hiccup sulked, but otherwise took one of the toasted crumpets and ignored the small pots of jams and lard entirely. The crumpet was hot and springy to the touch. Hiccup took the tiniest nibble. It was ... it was good. Really good. More spongy than the flakiness he'd expected. It didn't fill his nose with oily smells and when it went down it didn't sit like a rock in his stomach. He didn't say anything but the smug look on Gobber's face told him that Gobber knew.

"Told ya' it was good. I got the recipe from 'round here and I thought I'd try it. I might teach it to you some time if you like."

"... mh."

Gobber smiled. Picking up his mug, he took a large swing of it, the hot tea not bothering him in the slightest. When he exhaled, steam whooshed out from his mouth and nose. "Ah, that hits it. You know, I honestly wish I could'a extended that offer to yer mother ... I remember trying to help her all the time with the cooking. Poor lass never got it. 'Tis why all of us ended up eatin' together most nights. Did I ever tell you?"

"Only a hundred times." Hiccup rolled his eyes, and as always it made Gobber chuckle.

"And I'll say it a hundred more. We made good memories back then. They were some of the best times we had together. Take it from me, Hiccup, one thing they don' tell you about yer family is that the Haddocks always make or choose girls who don' have a lick of cooking talent in 'em. If someday ya' fancy a girl and she can't cook, then she just might be the one."

Hiccup quietly nodded, trying to hide his face behind his cup.

"Say, were you paying attention when they said what job I'm for - no? That's fine, that's fine. I'm here to be the new groundskeeper. They said they've been needing one for a couple o' years now. So far what they'd been doing was have some of the professors take turns every few months. But the school grounds are vast. They wanted someone who could take care of it year-round. They said they were lucky to have found me so soon ... it seems they're a bit short staffed this year. They even mentioned a forge they have on the grounds. That professor I was talking to – name's Ginna, methinks, not sure if you know her – she uses it to make and repair cleanin' tools n' harnesses n' things for the magical animals they keep around for teaching. I think I might go find it later. You want to come with me when you're free?"

"Yeah." Hiccup was surprised to find the crumpet gone. He took another. "How long do you think you'll stay?"

"Eh, could be ... a few years, I reckon. Enough to get the grounds shaped up and keep it that way. I didn' say I wanted to stay here permanent. Soon's I leave they said they'll be puttin' out flyers n' formal applications n' all that hoo-ha."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Gobber methodically smearing lard onto a crumpet that was balanced on the flat, spatula-like implement he now wore. Said implement transfigured into a smaller hook when he went to pour himself more tea. By then the activity in the house had slowed down. The drawers and trunk appeared to have gotten things sorted out between them, while the mop and broom had made it to the other end of the room and tucked themselves under the shelves. Above them, the cups and other miscellany had finally settled. At some point Yik-yik had wandered away from the fireplace to see what was going on. Nessi knew the old firedrake and so far she'd been trying to play with him. Every now and then she broke off to rub her head against Hiccup's palm, asking for pets.

Hiccup petted her, chewing on his crumpet as a thought formulated in his head. It was a very obvious thought, and now that he was sitting down and had food in him Hiccup realised that he ought to have thought of it sooner.

If there were two things he knew about Vikings, it was that they were loyal to one another and suspicious of others. In a village where there were so few children, just how well would any of them take to sending their young to a strange new environment to live amongst strangers?

"... are you here because of us?"

Gobber didn't even look up from his plate. "Is that a question? Ya' already know the answer, Hiccup."

So he was here for them. He hadn't come just for the job but to keep an eye on him and the other kids. And as long as they studied in the school he would remain, likely sending reports to his father.

For some reason ... it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Ooch look at tha' face. Am I really so bad?" Gobber tried to joke. It fell flat. When Hiccup still wouldn't look at him, he leaned forward. "... What's on your mind, lad?"

What was on his mind? The same thing that had stayed stuck in his head since before he'd come to school, before he'd gotten his school supplies. He couldn't have forgotten it no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn't even begin to describe what he felt about it, not when his thoughts were all jumbled and his mind refused to find the words.

He couldn't sit there and not say anything forever. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nessi peer up at him. She must've felt the quickened heartbeat that pulsed through his wrist. He tried to focus on that.

"... I overheard what dad said. I know ... I know why he sent us here. To this school." His mouth felt dry, but he'd run out of tea. "I don't- ... I don't belong in Berk, do I?"

"But o' course you belong in Berk! What made you-?"

"Then _why_ am I here and not _there?"_ Hiccup couldn't stop himself as more words spilled out. They were jagged, clumsy – they were all wrong. If he were better at this then he wouldn't be voicing them. He shouldn't be. He shouldn't be telling them to anyone.

But _gods_ they ate him.

"You know. You know why we're here. Think about it. You've seen what the other kids are like. They're all strong – Snotlout, Astrid, the twins, even Fishlegs – all of them. Any one of them would've made a better heir than me, and everyone knows it. It must be so embarrassing for The Great Chief of Berk to have someone like me for an heir. And the only reason the rest of _them_ came here with me was to make it less obvious to our entire village that their chief is ashamed of his son. Maybe he thought he could send me away so that other people could deal with me. Maybe he thought he wouldn't have to worry about me anymore if someone else was there to _babysit_ me, or – or – or he thought if I went away for a while and grew up somewhere else then I ... I would be out of the way ... I wouldn't cause so many problems for everyone anymore."

His hands shook. Whatever small noises had been left in the house were gone. All that was left was his loud breathing. Gobber didn't say anything. He sat with him in the shaking silence and let it stretch. Why he did Hiccup didn't know.

The air pulled on him. Like a thorn coming from a wound, the words he'd really meant to say surfaced.

"... I just ... I don't know what he _wants_ from me anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Hiccup closed his eyes. Saying it didn't make him feel better. It still hurt. His thoughts were scattered. His ears faintly rang.

The only thing that kept him grounded was Nessi. She'd climbed up to sit under his collar bone and purr. A steady hum over his erratic heart.

Same as she had done ever since his tenth birthday, she calmed him. He looked down at her. Her pupils had grown into large circles, a thin ring of green and brown surrounding them. They slid closed when he stroked her head.

An awkwardness had settled on the table. Most of it came from Gobber. Anywhere that wasn't Hiccup suddenly became vastly interesting. He kept moving, fumbling with the hook in his hand, tugging at his short beard, picking up and putting down his cup.

Eventually, he seemed to find his voice again. Hiccup knew this because he made an effort to look at Hiccup before he started.

"... ya' know ... this school is a new place. New place, new people, all of it new. And you know what that means ...?" He waited.

Hiccup sighed. "... what?"

"It means new opportunities. This is a place full of so many things that could lead to- why it could lead to a lot of other things – options. Yes, options. See, there are so many futures tha' could stretch from here on out. But back on Berk, ya' wouldn'a had that. Yer options would'a been very small-"

"Stay in your forge forever."

"-well, there was that. I also meant bein' chief's heir, or-"

"Which I wouldn't be because I've already failed at that."

"-you haven' _failed,_ Hiccup-"

"Haven't I? Does this look like chief training to you?" Hiccup bit out.

That was petty. He would've felt guilty for his behaviour. Gobber was older than him and he meant well; he was only trying to help. But meaning well wasn't _good_ enough. It wouldn't _do_ anything to take away his problems or his hurt. And Hiccup would rather be hurt and angry than hurt and hopeless.

Gobber abruptly shut his mouth. His eyes narrowed.

None of his words were getting through to Hiccup and both of them knew it, and if he kept going on the same route then that wouldn't change because of all the things for Hiccup to inherit from his father it had to be his stubbornness. And Gobber hadn't spent more years than Hiccup had been alive being his father's right hand without knowing what that looked like.

Gobber leaned back in his seat and huffed, all awkwardness from earlier long gone. "Oh alrigh' then, Master Hiccup. Yer so smart now, are ya'? Yer old enough and wise enough to know what's to become of you, righ'? Well then, clearly yer old enough to make yer own decisions now. You've been given a hand ya' don' want. Yer part of a business deal and ya' don't like that. So why don't we make our own deal?"

Of all the directions this conversation could've gone, Hiccup hadn't seen this one.

"... A deal."

"A deal. Ya' want to do what a chieftain would do, and what does a chieftain do? Protect his people. Is what we're doing now – with fighting the dragons and all – do ya' think it's working?"

Hiccup hesitated.

"Well? Speak up!"

"... No. No, it isn't working."

"Correct. We've been fightin' 'em and fightin' 'em and what's it done? Improve our food stores? Built more families? No. It hasn' done that. And I don' know if you know this, but many years ago it wasn' like this ... at least, not in living memory. The kind of fightin' you kids have grown up with – it wasn' always this bad. Maybe during the off season when things became desperate … but no' like what we have now. And it's getting worse. Someday we're going to run out – of food, of weapons, of fighters – and our best will no' help us. If we don' want that to happen then something need ta' change. What we need ... is something different."

Here he took a moment to look meaningfully at Hiccup. Gobber raised his eyebrows. Hiccup stared back.

"... you ... you need different?"

"We need _you._ Think about it – what is the one thing you have that no one else does?" Gobber didn't wait for Hiccup to answer. "Yer brains! Yer mind. You were always fillin' your head up wi' knowledge, always goin' off ta' read books or learn something new or find another way to do something-"

"Which usually ended in disaster." Hiccup pointed out.

"-yes, yes, but tha's not the point. The _point_ issat you are a thinker. Yer smart, and no one can doubt you on tha'. All yer life you've been hungerin' fer books, haven'cha? Well here ya' are in a place full o' books! There are books 'ere and professors 'ere and so many other things that will give you knowledge and talents and strengths that ya' can't find on Berk or anywhere else in the world. There's bound ta' be something that'll help our village in all this, and if anyone can find it then I know it's you. No doubt 'bout that."

Gobber leaned back on the stool, looking extremely satisfied with himself. "There! Ya' wanted a purpose? Now ya' have it. Whacha do with tha' now is your choice."

His _choice,_ he said. In all this madness, he said that Hiccup had a choice.

But it wasn't as if Hiccup had had any say in being born the chief's son, or of shouldering the responsibilities that came with it.

Yet now that the thought was lodged in his head, Hiccup couldn't get it out. For all that Gobber had said in that long-winded speech, his old mentor had succeeded in doing the one thing he'd wanted to do: make Hiccup listen. And his words stayed with Hiccup long after he'd returned to his dorms.

The Hufflepuff dorms were underground, in a very warm and well-lit network of tunnels that was said to be near where the kitchens were. Aside from the yellow that coloured everything, one of the prevalent themes of the dorms was circles.

The entrance, located behind a painting, was a wide circle. The chairs, tables, cushions, and rugs were circles. Round lamps hung from the high ceiling. In between them were circular clay pots in different sizes, filled with green plants that either spilled down over the rim or else climbed up the chains that suspended them. The dorms themselves, with steps that led _further_ underground, each had a circular, wooden door that opened inwards to show four wide, fluffy circles for beds, arranged in the circular room like the room was a giant compass and the beds were the cardinal directions.

When Hiccup returned, his dorm was empty. It was too early for supper; his dorm mates and the other students were all up in the common room or at the library or anywhere else that wasn't where Hiccup was.

His roommates were ... alright. They seemed nice enough, and they mostly left him alone. If he did have any passing conversation with them, usually one or two sentences, they sounded happy enough to talk to him. That was not something he was used to.

But regardless, he was glad they weren't around. By then all he wanted was to be alone. It helped him, being in quiet solitude. He'd never been one to sort out his thoughts and emotions with others there to listen. It was easier to do those things privately.

Hiccup sat on a carpet (also circular), his back to his bed's mattress and the drapes brushing his shoulders. Before him lay the pouch he had gotten during his shopping street misadventure. The books he'd read were piled next to his knee. The books he hadn't opened - the "misbehaving" ones - were laid out before him.

Ever since he had gotten to school, he hadn't touched any of the books, not even the ones he had only just started reading. But now he had a choice to make.

What Gobber had told him about finding a solution for their village through reading, Hiccup now understood that it hadn't just been that. He'd had the time to think about it and he knew that for him to find what he was looking for, first he had to learn. He couldn't just search through book after book because he didn't know what he was searching for yet. He didn't know much of _anything_ yet. And if he did find something, then what guarantee did he have that he or anyone he knew had the skills to apply it?

For him to truly make any meaningful changes, he had to start paying attention again. He had to strengthen the skills he had and learn new skills as well. He had so much he needed to learn, about the world, about magic, about everything. More than that, he needed to strengthen his magic.

Berk focused on necessities, things like battle magic and healing magic. But if he wanted different outcomes then he had to go above and beyond that. He had to develop his magic in all the ways it could be developed, learn to harness it to its greatest capacities, and then make it useful for anything he might need it to do.

Now was not the time to be clever, now he needed to listen and learn. He needed to keep his eyes and ears open and search for the ways that others would miss.

And once he found them ... that's when he would act.

_But what if it all fails? What if it ends like all the other times?_

_Only one way to find out._

Hiccup took a book from the ones before him and turned to the first page.

* * *

**A/N:**

**\- Remember when Stoik said that Hiccup barely interacts with others in meaningful ways? What he said was both right and wrong. Except with Gobber, Hiccup hasn't really formed meaningful connections with others. And we are told here that he does try to participate a lot, it's just that while he's doing that his father is busy doing chieftain things and doesn't have much time to pay attention to his son. Most of the time the other children or other vikings end up driving Hiccup away before he can get very far, whether he's doing things the right way or not. It's only when Hiccup messes up monumentally that it comes to his father's attention.**

**\- For this story I put Hiccup in Hufflepuff house and as such I chose his defining traits to be: diligence, loyalty, and compassion**

**Do you see what I did in this chapter? I brought out that loyalty and I shined a light on it. Right now Hiccup is loyal to his family, to his people. He wants to help them and he wants to do right by them. When he feels that he no longer has people who want him or need him, he is lost and dejected. He no longer has his purpose and he doesn't know what to do. It's when he gets his purpose back, a reason to believe that what he can do matters and that he still has a way to help his village and make his father proud of him, that he feels the will to actively participate in his own life again.**

**I know this sounds contradictory to what happens later, since I'm loosely going by the movie plot for Hiccup's arc, but even after he's met Toothless and really learnt about the dragons he's still loyal to his people. He still wants to help them, he wants his village to survive and for the ones he knows to be safe and happy. It's just that his loyalties expand to include dragons as well and he tries to find a way to protect both of the groups he cares about without having to sacrifice one or the other. And he does. :D**

**\- On behalf of Gobber's dialogues I need to apologize I am SO SORRY I don't know what the hecking hecksauce I was doing with that I promise I'll learn English dialects and how they function soon and correct that abomination****\- Sweet cheese and crackers this thing needs revisions like I need a work ethic gotdam**

* * *

**Update: ****If you're someone like me who checks on fics every now and then to see whether they've been updated or not, even when I haven't received any email or notification or anything, then I want you to know right now that I will not be posting the next chapter of this story until around August/September 2020. There's a lot going on in my life career-wise and I really need to focus on that before I can come back to this story - and I _will_ come back to it. Trust me, I've developed my plot and worldbuilding way too much by now to not. But if I could wait 10 years to write this story, then I'm sure you all can wait just a few more months to read the next chapter.**

**I'm warning you in advance that for a few years at least my life is going to be in a state of flux and this kind of thing might happen again, but I do hope you'll be patient with me. Stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you again soon!**


	10. Ch 8: Merida's POV

Chapter 8:

Merida's school year is not off to a good start.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I've had this sitting unedited in my drafts for ages. I literally have exams next week but this thing's been bugging me nonstop and I finally got fed up enough with my brain that I gave this an edit and chucked it into the void. This chapter isn't one of the happier ones, but it is a necessary, bridging chapter. Next chapter will have more good feels.**

**Warning for verbal micro-aggression directed towards Merida. It happens near the beginning of the chapter after the chapter partition and the start and end of it is marked with "WWWW" that I've put between the paragraphs.**

* * *

Merida wondered if she was going mad.

Was it the homesickness getting to her? Was it the thought of attending day after boring day of classes? Was it the fact that that castle in particular gave her a bad feeling, like it was slowly growing smaller and smaller and the walls were edging nearer until it trapped her in and crushed her under its weight and she'd never see the light of day again?

… perhaps that was taking it too far.

But that's what it had felt like when she'd first come.

She'd woken up to the first day of classes and that's when it had hit. That this was all real. That she wasn't dreaming. The night before had really happened and she was attending a boarding school.

And, well – she panicked. She didn't remember what happened but next thing she knew she was running through unknown corridors, scrambling down twisting passageways and up narrow stairs until the stone walls fell away and she was met with green grass beneath her and grey sky above her and nothing caging her in and she could finally, _finally_ breathe.

She didn't attend classes that first day. Or the second. Or the third.

She never stayed away for too long – the adults found her before then. They always found her.

The first time that happened was when she'd been curled up behind the greenhouses. The professor had sat with her, eventually convincing her to walk with him back to the castle for supper.

Then another time it had been a woman. She'd taken her to the school's sports stadium where a group of older students in the green of her House had been flying high in the air on brooms. She'd sat and watched without anyone bothering her for a good two hours before the adult – who it turned out was the flying instructor and game coach – instructed them to take Merida back to the castle. The seniors were a lot nicer about it than Merida had expected.

On Saturday evening the adult who found her led her to a small, cluttered room and told her to wait. The old woman returned with none other than Merida's Head of House, Professor Rao. She was the same as Merida had last seen her. Her head was bare, her steely hair pulled back, and she neither smiled nor frowned when she looked at Merida.

The professor gave her two things. One was a letter addressed from home, the other a bracelet made of small black stones.

"This is a shielding device. It will not monitor your location, but should you wander too near a place within the castle grounds that is dangerous, it will detect it. It will then notify a professor and you will be found. This also serves to give a base level of protection against various wards should you need it."

"I cannot force you to attend your classes or stay within the castle, nor will I. But there are certain places here that will harm you if you are not careful. You will wear this until it is deemed appropriate for you to remove it."

The professor took Merida's hand and slid on the bracelet. It automatically adjusted itself to fit her wrist. Then she gave her the letter, nodded to the other old woman, and left.

Merida waited until supper was well underway before she ventured back to the empty dorms.

In spite of the envelop bearing her mother's name, the contents of it held letters from her father, her little brothers, and a few of the staff as well. They were sweet, some making her smile.

The smile dropped when she got to her mother's. Unlike the diplomatic letters she'd been taught to write, this letter was short and to the point. Her mother had been informed that she'd missed her classes for the first week. Either Merida attended them, or her horse Angus would be given to another home.

Merida tore a hole in that letter. She raged and cried and spent an hour letting the feelings flood through her. By the end of it she felt nothing but defeat.

Her mother had made her stance clear. Merida could no longer run away.

* * *

The Great Hall was bustling with students on Monday morning. Merida's stomach tightened.

She'd vainly hoped that the mess would've been emptier. At least then she wouldn't have had so many students milling around while she enacted her plan. Or maybe it was better this way. Maybe she'd ... have more options if there were more students.

If she'd been someone who found it easy to wake up early then this wouldn't be a problem. But she wasn't. Instead, she was surrounded by eyewitnesses and had nothing but cold, sweaty palms and buzzing nerves to come to her aid.

Merida paced the corridor a few times, the cold feeling creeping further and further up her spine. Then she shook herself, squared her shoulders, and marched into the Hall.

At one end of the Slytherin table was a small group of students who looked about Merida's age. One of them even appeared to be her roommate. Merida made a path to them.

Legs feeling wooden, Merida plunked down at the table. All three girls visibly startled.

_Smile!_ Her mind supplied. Merida tried.

"Good morning! Nice day out, isn't it?"

None of the girls moved. They stared at Merida as if she'd just strutted up to them in a sparkling peacock dress and invited them out for drinks.

Eventually her roommate, a thin faced girl with limp blonde hair, was the first to speak. "… Do I know you?"

**_WWWW_**

**_WWWW_**

"I'm your roommate, Merida." Still no comprehension. "Merida … DunBroch?"

"... oh! _Oh._ Aren't you the one who's always absent at role call?" Said the girl seated to her roommate's left.

Merida internally cringed. "Ah … well, yeah, that's … me, haha. It's, um – it's a long story. Not that I'll bore you with all that."

She tried to laugh it off, but the other girls didn't seem to notice. They were busy sharing glances between each other. Merida couldn't pick up anything from their faces, but it was her roommate who nodded and turned to address Merida.

"So, what do you want, Merida – is that how you pronounce it? _Meh_-ree-dah?" Her mouth stretched out in an exaggerated way, as if Merida's name sat in her mouth like chewing gum.

"I suppose? I … I was thinking we could be friends, I guess. I think I missed out on a lot last week and I'd really like to get to know you."

"You _theenk,_ huh?" Her roommate tilted her head, one pale eyebrow raised. "Well, yes, you did actually. But that's the problem, see. We've already made groups."

"Oh … you did?"

Her roommate's friend nodded, looking very serious. "Oh yes, of course. It was all decided on the first day. Slytherins are very studious about their work. We want to do well, you know, and we like working efficiently. Do you know that word?"

"What word?"

"_Efficiently._" She said, slowly and carefully.

"… Yes? Why wouldn't I?"

What were these girls playing at? And why were they all smirking?

Her roommate tittered like her friend had just uttered some kind of joke. She patted the girl's shoulder. "Oh, don't mind her. We just wanted to make sure. I mean, it's very hard to tell sometimes."

"Tell _what_? I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Wait, wait, wait, sorry – could you, could you repeat that?" She leaned forward, one hand going to her ear. "I _cahn't_ really understand what you just said."

Merida stared at her blankly.

Something wasn't making sense here. She knew that she was new to all this – this living in a new place, attending a boarding school, being surrounded by more children her own age than she'd quite realised could exist in one place all at once. She knew it would take her some getting used to and that things would feel strange at first. But there was something very … off about this conversation.

Had … had she been wrong? Was this girl actually daft? Obviously, they were both speaking English, so what was there to misunderstand? She seemed to have understood Merida just fine a few moments ago, so why-

Then it clicked.

**_WWWW_**

**_WWWW_**

Merida abruptly stood up. Without looking back, she went striding out of the Great Hall, face burning hot.

What kind of – how _dare_ they -!

They thought she was stupid. They'd been laughing at her. And it wasn't even because Merida had done something to earn that, oh no, it was worse.

What had possessed those little _twats_ to have that kind of gall? So maybe Merida wasn't always the brightest candle in the bunch. And maybe that had shown itself more often than not, according to her mother.

But those girls didn't know that. What had happened back there had absolutely nothing to do with that. And from her own House, too.

She was a _princess._ She'd been taking etiquette lessons as soon as she could understand what that was. She'd come out the other end having learnt three other languages and at least five different dialects, with more on the way if her mother had any say in it. She'd had to learn to smooth out the "Scottish burr" from her English on command until it was barely noticeable, or else what would've been the point of her learning diplomacy at all if nobody could even understand her?

Her accent was fine, better than fine, she knew for a fact – but that wasn't the point. The point was that if any of those girls had known who they were talking to, they wouldn't have dared say such things. If they'd known who she was, they would've cried at her feet!

Merida buried her face in her hands and unleashed a muffled screech.

This wasn't going to work. It wasn't even midday and everything was _horrible_ and this wretched school was all _wrong_ and no one was doing anything to change that because her parents had never once listened to her or anyone who didn't see the world the way they did.

But what could she do? Her torn up letter was still buried in the bottom of her trunk. Her "bracelet" held fast to her arm, still mildly cold even after spending so much time against her skin.

She could ask some other students in her House. Perhaps … perhaps she'd just gotten the rotten ones of her classmates. They couldn't _all_ be that bad, could they?

_But what if they were? Or even if they weren't, what if none of them would be able to help her? What if none of them wanted to?_

The problem with missing almost a week of classes was that she had no class notes. She didn't know what they'd covered in the classes, what part of her textbooks she was supposed to read, or what kind of homework she should've done. She could attend all the classes she liked but that wouldn't help her if she didn't understand what her professors were teaching.

If she didn't find help from somewhere soon, then she'd fall even more behind than she already was and that wouldn't make anyone happy with her. She couldn't take the risk of waiting until the end of the day to go to her classmates individually and try her luck again. She needed help _now._

She … she would ask her professors. The adults wanted her to learn, right? And she needed help so they had to help her, right? At the very least she could go to them and ask which parts of the textbooks had already been covered.

Her mind made up, Merida loitered in the hallways until the Great Hall started to empty. She waited until she spotted a bunch of Slytherin first years walking out – if anyone would form into groups that big, it would likely be the first years.

Merida went up to them and joined in the back. Those girls from earlier weren't there, and none of these students called attention to her, so she summoned up her willpower and tapped the shoulder of the girl next to her.

"Do you know if we have Transfiguration today? I, uh, I forgot my schedule."

"Oh, well, if I remember it right … we have Charms for 1st period and Transfiguration for 2nd. After lunch is D.A.D.A. and then History." The girl gave Merida a considering look. "Do you want to come sit with us?"

"Yes, please!"

The morning passed with Merida growing increasingly nervous. She tried her best to keep quiet and take notes, even if she didn't understand them.

As promised, Transfiguration came after Charms. By then, Merida had to resort to sitting on her hands so she didn't immediately run up to her professor and demand her help. She waited until the last student had packed up and left before she shuffled to the front.

Her professor sat behind the desk organising papers. Merida saw different names listed on top and wondered again just how much homework she'd missed. Upon her approach, her professor glanced up.

"Yes, Miss DunBroch? What is it?"

Her brown eyes held a sharp gleam to them. But her mother's eyes were just as sharp, and Merida might have been nervous but she wasn't meek.

"… Regarding the classes I have missed, I need some help. I don't know what homework has been given out, and I asked my classmates as well but I also wanted to ask from the source so that I don't miss anything."

"Hm. That is all well and good. But do you have the notes that you will need to complete the homework?"

"Not- not yet. But I will get them."

"Do you know which part of the textbook has been covered? Do you know when the first in-class tests will come?"

"… No."

Her professor gave her an unreadable look. She put aside her papers, and took up her wand. "If I remember correctly, you didn't receive your schedule, did you?"

Merida opened her mouth to answer, thought better of it, and closed her mouth. She shook her head.

Professor Rao pulled out two small pieces of paper. One she tapped with her wand, making it stiffen. When she gave it to Merida, it had the first year schedule printed on it.

The other paper she folded into a paper aeroplane, her bone hand working in tandem with the flesh one. Merida suppressed a shiver. A tap of the wand and the paper aeroplane went flying out the door.

Merida was invited to sit, so she did. A few minutes later a Slytherin student walked through the open doorway.

At first Merida thought she was a Prefect. But this girl didn't look old enough, nor did she have the shiny badge that Merida had seen the Prefects wear. What she had instead was a head of curly black hair, a wide, brown face, and a toothy smile that dimpled her cheeks.

"Miss DunBroch, this is Clary Daniels. Miss Daniels, I would like you to meet Merida DunBroch. Miss Daniels is in 3rd year and she will help you with the classes you've missed. Tell her what you need and she will see that you get it. Miss Daniels, would you mind assisting her?"

"Not at all, professor." Clary held out her hand to Merida. "Hullo, there. I'm happy to meet you. Let's get this sorted out, shall we?"

Merida didn't know what to make of the girl, but she took her hand.

When the two got out of the class, Merida expected the senior to arrange to meet up again in the evening. Worst case scenario, she'd ditch her there. Instead, Clary ushered her in the direction of lunch and told her to eat while she headed up to the professor's table. A few minutes later she returned, ate lunch with Merida, and then escorted her back to the Slytherin common room.

Surprisingly, there were several students already lounging there. While Merida sat in a corner, Clary went around the room and talked to a few of the seniors. She went with some of them down into the dorms and came back up with an armful of notes-books, laying them on the table before Merida and sitting down herself.

"Those are my friends' old first year notes-books, so that means there's no hurry to return them. The professor for my afternoon classes is absent today. I checked in with your other professors and got permission for you to skip the rest of your classes today. We'll look over the homework part in the evening. Right now, we do your notes."

Together, the two of them spent the rest of the day getting Merida's notes in order. Merida didn't start on her homework that day, but she did get to read a page or two from her textbooks and knew something of what to expect the next day.

It took the better part of the week for Merida to get caught up on the homework.

"Why did she give me to you?"

Clary glanced up from what she'd been reading.

"Because she asked, so I got you." She chuckled at the look Merida sent her. "Kidding, kidding. I heard what you said. But what exactly do you mean?"

"It's just …" Merida vaguely waved her hand around, trying to find the words, "… wouldn't it have made more sense if our professor – um, our Head of House – asked a Prefect or someone like that to help me? That's … that's their job, right?"

"I suppose. I think I know why, though." She pointed to a textbook, which she'd borrowed from another one of her friends so that Merida could get the answers to her Herbology homework from the scribbled in notes. "It seems I'm known for getting along well with most people. And I'm not very senior to you, so I guess I wouldn't come off as intimidating as one of the higher years would. Speaking of – I don't think I've seen you talking with anyone else yet. Haven't you made any friends?"

Merida shrugged. She looked away, rubbing at the ink on her nails. "It's … awkward. Right now. Earlier, I didn't … I wasn't really there much, you know? In classes. So …"

"So now everyone else is paired up and you don't really know where to start?"

Merida nodded.

"Eh, happens to the best of us. You'll get there eventually. But just in case -" Clary leaned forward, bumping her hand with Merida's, "- if there's ever something bothering you, you tell me, alright? That's what seniors are for."

"Thanks." Merida mumbled. It was easier to say then admitting to what had been on her mind the last few days.

Mainly, it was that awful girl she'd met on Monday. As it turned out, sharing the same House with someone meant that one tended to see them around often. And _she_ seemed to pop up everywhere.

It wasn't even her tagging along the same group of girls, either. Whenever Merida caught sight of her – in the classes, the corridors, the dorms – she'd almost always be with a different set of faces. She seemed to be some kind of social butterfly that way, often seen giggling and chattering about something or another.

That girl had all but attached to Merida's other roommates, so she couldn't even catch a break there. It was why Merida avoided her dorm as often as she could.

How did she do it? Couldn't other people sense how vile she was? Did they even notice?

Merida didn't know. It made her paranoid about her other classmates. She hadn't yet talked to the other two girls in her dorm, nor was she in a hurry to. Aside from Clary, she hadn't really talked with much of anyone.

And maybe she was imagining it, but she felt like at least some of them were talking about _her._ She'd turn a corner and hear giggling come trailing behind her. Sometimes she'd walk too close to a group and they'd stop talking altogether. And there would sometimes be this strange itch on her shoulder like someone was watching her.

It was just another thing to add to the mess that was her head.

She didn't know where to start with it. There was just so much in there, too much. Confusion, for one. Loneliness, heavy and aching, that grew worse with each passing day. And a hundred other little things to pile onto that, but most of it boiled down to frustration.

She was frustrated, with herself, with her life, with her family and society and circumstances and the entire planet for _abandoning_ her-

She felt so _angry._ It poured into everything she thought and felt. It seeped into corners of her waking life and left her exhausted by the day's end. She never knew she could feel like this. How could one person hold so much rage inside of them and not die from it?

She was supposed to be a happy girl. She'd had her archery, her beloved horse, her family, her home. For all accounts she'd had a happy, healthy childhood, and she'd always considered herself more or less happy.

A part of her – a larger part than she wanted to admit – wondered if she was blowing all this out of proportion. It was just boarding school. It was even in the same country. Her parents just wanted her to learn lessons somewhere else, that's it. And she'd already been having lessons for years so it wasn't like that was new.

But that wasn't the point. For all Merida cared, she could've just as well been sent to a land full of horses and forests and endless, rolling hills where all she had to do was while away her days befriending horses and shooting arrows and none of that would have mattered because _it wasn't her choice._

She didn't have any choice. Not really. She'd thought she had, very recently. She believed her parents actually cared about what she thought, that they listened to her when she spoke. But she was wrong. She'd yelled and pleaded and begged with them to at least compromise with her on this one thing, to just _listen,_ and they didn't care. The world didn't care what she wanted because it had already decided on everything for her. And there was nothing she could do to change that.

Her future wasn't hers to choose, her life wasn't hers to live, and the only thing this English school did was remind her of that fact every single time she opened her eyes.

If she thought about it long enough then she didn't know if she'd break something or cry.

So she didn't. She pushed all that away. She put her head down and focused on her work and didn't think about anything else.

That attitude carried her through the week. It completed her homework and caught her up in her classes. The bracelet didn't come off, but at least by then she'd grown used to it.

The air was cool and windy on the day of her first flying lesson. She'd had to miss the actual first one the week before in favour of completing her back logged work, but this week she was outside and on the grounds.

The professor was none other than the woman who'd found Merida in that first week. She introduced herself as Madame Greenleaf, and for the first few minutes she went over what the children had learnt in the previous class. But then another professor had come by. He's spoken with her and the two had gone off into the forest.

Merida stood next to her broom, eyes wandering over everything. Most of the other students had formed their own little groups, be it on the ground or in the air. A little distance from them was a wooden cabin and beyond that the strange, dark forest.

The professor had said that she'd return in a few minutes but was within shouting distance should anyone need help. It had been long enough for Merida to consider a decent amount of waiting time.

Although she was from a magical background, Merida had never ridden a broom before. The broom on the ground looked innocent enough. It also looked flimsy now that she was associating it with the thought of carrying her weight, but if one of those could carry a grown adult then this one could carry her, right?

Merida lifted her arm above the broom and levelled a stern look. _Listen here, you. I have swung my Da's sword and it's bigger than you. I've ridden a horse that can make you into wood chips. Do not test me._

"Up!"

The broom shot up.

Merida caught it and gave it a twirl. Huh. That was easy.

The professor had mentioned something about aligning the broom properly with the ground, but Merida decided she'd figure that out as she went. If she could make the thing fly, then that was good enough.

She swung the business end of the broom between her feet and gripped the handle. The wood vibrated, warm to the touch. As Merida watched, tiny engravings appeared on the surface. They flashed gold before melting into the wood, and suddenly every part of her felt lighter. Cool air swept from tip to bristle and swirled around her knees.

And then her feet were hovering over the ground.

Merida grinned. She'd done it! She tugged the handle upwards and the broom went higher. Its arc turned into a sideways tilt and Merida did an odd little spin in the air, somehow righting herself before she went upside down.

The coordination took her a minute, but soon she was hovering about two stories up. The wind brushed through her hair and ruffled her uniform, far gentler than if she were on a running horse. But she could make it go that fast in time, she was sure of it. Maybe even faster.

Most of the other children were a little ways off, seeing as she'd accidentally drifted away from them while she'd practised. It was all Merida could do not go into a giggling fit, she was so happy with herself. They might've thought her strange – or something, she didn't know – but the least she could do was not appear strange _and_ bonkers where people could see her.

Movement on the ground caught her attention. On the side of the cabin not facing the flying field was a small enclosure with fuzzy dark things in it. Three of the Gryffindors were next to it.

Merida had wandered closer than the other students to the cabin, so she clearly saw it when one of the boys did something with his wand that made the creatures shuffle away from them. He did it again and the creatures started making a high-pitched sound. Meanwhile his friends were laughing.

She didn't think. Her body pitched forward and the broom went from a hover to a steep dive. Half way there Merida pulled up her feet and hooked her heels on the broom handle. She brought herself up into a crouch, took aim, and jumped.

Her foot hit the back of the boy's head.

Merida rolled onto the grass and came to a stop on her back. Behind her were squawks and shouts from the boys. She stumbled to her feet and faced them.

The boy she'd hit was surprisingly conscious and spitting out blood. When he looked up, she saw that he had a bloody nose. Between them lay his wand, tiny flames sputtering in the grass around it.

All of them stared open mouthed at her. "You … you're that Slytherin girl."

Merida sneered.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

She turned on her heel and made to leave. Then she turned around again and said to no one in particular, "And my accent is _fine!"_

Merida started back to the castle. Behind her she heard the Gryffindor boys go running to their classmates, shouting the entire way. There would likely be another rumour starting up, feeding into the rest and eventually growing outlandish. She was sure that she'd get a detention out of this, the first of more to come.

But for now, that was a problem for future her.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Cast List:**

**Unnamed bully girl: my OC**

**Professor Amaya Rao, Head of Slytherin House: my OC**

**Clary Daniels: my OC**

**Madame Amber Greenleaf: OC child of Nod and MK, Epic**

**\- Most of the trouble I had with this chapter came from the part trying to describe Merida's mental state. I'm still not sure if I included too much or too little, or if it made sense.**

**The bottom line of it is this: Merida is mourning. She is mourning the loss of her childhood. She is grieving over reaching the boundaries of her world and realising that she cannot yet cross them. She is realising for the first time that she is a very small person in a very big world and that terrifies her. As of now she doesn't know where her rage is coming from. It's spread out all over; sometimes it comes upon her and jabs a particular point like a needle prick, other times it feels like a directionless haze. She doesn't realise that underneath it is fear and grief. She is a very strong willed soul. She wants to know that her mind and her strength are enough to bring about change, and that what she thinks and feels has an impact on the world. Because in a lot of ways, that's what she was raised to believe: the responsibilities of a queen will someday fall on her shoulders and she's been taught that the power she will hold means that what she does, what she thinks, how she talks, how she listens - that alone will hold enough power to rewrite the pages of her country's history.**

**To find out that her voice is only so strong, that there are so many things about her own life that're out of her control - it makes her feel powerless and hopeless. And that anger in her - it comes from the part of her that's trying to protect her. It sees those sad, hopeless feelings and it lashes out against them. She doesn't know just how much sadness she's feeling under all that hurt, and she's not ready to face those feelings yet. She is lonely, homesick, and hurting. She needs a good, long cry and someone who'll be there to listen to her. She needs a hug.**

**Merida suppressing her emotions + her not finding a healthy outlet for her feelings + her distancing herself from her classmates + her not keeping track of what kind of things people are telling about her = consequences for later**

**She's going to hurt for a while, but things will get better and she will make friends who care about her as a person within this fic. Pinky promise.**

**\- I know it should've been obvious, but I only found out recently that there's prejudices faced by the Scots, the Irish, and many others from the UK and Europe who've had their languages and cultures targeted to erasure. And judging by the reactions in the comments section of the things I read most westerners weren't aware of it either. A part of me from back when I was 12 felt vindictive pleasure about writing Merida and her home education putting focus on her speaking skills. I used to read fics where Merida's dialogues were written so ridiculously and she was depicted as someone the rest of the characters couldn't understand at all. It made younger me confused and annoyed when in the movie itself she'd only had a slight accent.**

**Now I am fully aware that Hogwarts is in Scotland, and it is canon in this fic that about a third of the school is Scottish and Irish. But remember, this is an English institution, not a Scottish one. There are bound to be kids who grew up being taught those kinds of things attending it. If you want the truth, those girls didn't really care about that. For them it mainly served as a convenient excuse that they capitalised upon. Also, these prejudiced people? They're real funny. Like, they are _so_ funny. Speaking from personal experience, I can tell you that this isn't anywhere near the funniest they can get.**

**On an entirely unrelated note I'm remembering that princess scene from the Ralph movie by Gisnep, that one particular scene about our princess being "from the other studio". If anyone knows which hilarious individuals green lit that one I'd appreciate it if they were directed my way. I just want to talk. :)**

**Anyways, that soon-to-be-named girl will get her comeuppance before the school year is up, so you can look forward to that.**

**\- I feel like I've already said this somewhere, but once again the Slytherin House I've written here is different from the canon one, just like the Ravenclaw House I've written is also different. The next Merida POV chapter will elaborate more on this, and I hope it'll be made clearer then.**

**If my exams finish when they should then I predict the next chapter will be out near the end of this month. Wish me luck and I hope to see you all then!**


	11. Ch 9: Jack's POV

Chapter 9: Jack's POV:

Jack is living it up in the cat den.

* * *

Although Hogwarts set a limit on the kinds of pet the students could bring, it was slightly more lax when it came to familiars. But the fact remained that the most common familiars amongst students and younger witches were owls and cats.

A lesser known fact about the school was that just as owls had an Owlery where they could rest and reside, cat familiars had their own accommodations in the form of a series of interconnected, underground cat dens. Like the rest of the school, these dens often changed their locations. Amongst those who knew of them it was yet to be decided who was responsible for their creation, whether it were the school's Imāris or the familiars themselves with their own brand of magic.

Most people wouldn't be able to say what the inside of one of those dens looked like. Jack, however, wasn't most people.

This had less to do with any special skills on Jack's part and more thanks to an acquaintance of Uncle Witherwell's, a cat familiar that answered to Bumble, who had been requested to keep an eye on Jack and check in on him every now and then.

So it was that Jack spent one particular Sunday morning sitting in a corner of a cat den and writing out letters, meanwhile Bumble slacked off his babysitting duties to presumably go gossip with the other castle cats.

For a cat den it was moderately sized and well lit, though it was hard to say where the light source came from. Cats of all ages, shapes, and colours lounged and played in the low-ceilinged room. Most of them left Jack be, though every now and then one would wander over to curiously sniff at him.

The kittens were a different matter; they didn't seem to hold much weight in the concept of personal boundaries. At that moment a kitten with white fur and orange speckles stood on his shoulder, head moving rapidly in time with his pen strokes. Jack had to write the letter on his right knee, the rest of his lap being occupied by a large, purring brown cat who had taken one look at Jack and settled down right then and there.

_Dear Mum,_

_I hope you're doing well. Did you get the magazine clippings I sent you? I thought Mrs. Tannings would appreciate the recipes and you'd like the crosswords, so I'm sending you more. My classes are going alright. Still haven't started doing wand magic in half of them, but they make up for it with being interesting. There are lots of things the professors talk about that aren't in the text books, especially in history with Professor Thatch. But I think I've decided that I like Charms best, maybe because Professor Llyr reminds me a little of the lady three floors down who works in the big library and likes to give out ginger biscuits and advice about combating dangerous chattering books. And I really like flying classes. I think flying might be the best thing invented._

_The kids in my House are loads of fun. The upperclassmen are friendly and they're almost always playing games in the common room (that's why I study in the library). It's almost like being back home again. I've made friends with the boys in my dorm and some of my classmates. I think you'd like them._

_I miss you and Emma. I hope to hear from you soon. Send Emma a hug for me._

_Love,_

_Jack_

Jack sat back and read through the letter again. Detailed enough to be reassuring but otherwise appearing vague in a way that could be passed off as unintentional. It would do.

His letter to Uncle Witherwell was already written and sealed into an envelope and lay next to his knee, most of it containing questions relating to his subjects as well as some that branched off of them. If there was anyone who could be counted on to know about things that spanned across several fields, it would have to be his uncle. Beneath it were a few other letters addressed to some of Jack's friends back home whom he'd promised to stay in touch with.

With a satisfied nod, Jack quickly folded up the letter to his mother in an envelope and set it aside. Rooting inside a pencil box that was acting as a paper weight, Jack found a pencil and a stub of rubber and picked out a fresh sheet of paper. A grin tugged at his mouth as he started on his letter to Emma.

Jack went into great detail describing the pranks he'd gotten up to in the first month. They were all minor, but only for now. As soon as he found the materials he needed, he'd promised to come up with something grand.

The point of school was to learn new things, and according to Jack one of the best ways to do it was to have fun. The best part was that he'd found another kid to do it with, another first year boy who just so happened to be his dormmate. It was exciting to see who could one up the other, and Jack made sure to write all about it.

In the margins of the paper Jack sketched out drawings, some showing off the pranks he'd pulled and others added in for decoration. For Emma, reading was one thing, but words were still hard; the letters Emma sent him often ended up being mostly drawings. As far as either of them cared, their tradition of sending secret, "encoded" letters to each other had no reason to stop even if one or both of them were away from home.

Signing off with a customary little robin, Jack stuffed the letter and a packet of contraband chocolate bars he'd gotten from one of the seniors into the envelope and gathered his letters.

The brown cat tilted its head back and peered up at him. "Mrrow?"

"Yeah. I have to go now." Jack scratched behind its ears. It climbed off of his lap and gave a big, yawning stretch. Making its way across the room, the cat butted its head against a stone in the wall. The stone shifted and folded back to make a hole, which then grew until it formed a low archway just big enough for Jack to crawl through.

He stood up and dusted his trousers off. "Thank you. Tell Bumble that I've headed back to Gryffindor Tower, please?"

A small chorus of meows reached his him. Jack nodded, thanked them again, and walked down the corridor.

From what he could see, the cat den had deposited him somewhere near the Potions dungeons. The corridors were dry and warm. Every now and then a small, grated window would appear above and let in shafts of natural light.

As he rounded a corner, he saw another figure come sauntering towards him.

Jack grinned. "Hey, Sanjay."

His dormmate and fellow conspirator, Sanjay Sharma, grinned back. "Hey yourself."

"What are you doing down here?"

"Going to a date, obviously."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "That was fast."

"A _detention_ date."

"Even better." When they crossed each other, they high fived. "Have fun!"

"Will do. See you later." Jack spun on his heel and walked backwards, waving to the other boy until he disappeared around the bend. Then he bounded up the steps to the higher levels.

The Gryffindor common room was about half full at mid-morning, with some either getting breakfast or out to see the Quidditch trials, or else still asleep. Some, like the familiar faces he saw at a table near the windows, were busy with classwork. Others were curled up on the sofas and chairs around the fire, either reading, chatting with friends, or playing board games. In a corner, someone had switched on a table top television the size of a football*. Its tall antennae crackled with sparks of magic as a group of girls clustered around and listened to a pair of speakers and their tinny voices.

As Jack wandered to the windows, he caught the sound of bickering happening between a painting and a tiny whisp of a girl with huge, blonde ringlets decorating her head.

Jack listened in. He turned to the girl. "That was rude."

The girl paused to stick her tongue out in his direction. "Nonayah biss-niss." She prattled off something else to the painting that made the mustachioed man in it storm off in a huff. Then she appeared to freeze for a moment.

She whipped around to face Jack. "Did you just answer me in Russian?"

"Did I? Huh … I guess I did." Jack shrugged. It'd been a while since he'd last spoken it and he hadn't noticed when he did. Whoops.

"How do you know Russian?"

"My family was from there, originally. I learnt some of it from my mum."

"… I see." The girl regarded Jack curiously. "You're Sanjay's friend, aren't you?"

"Looks like it." He took the hand she stuck out to him and shook it.

"The name's Sasha Koshkin. Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours."

And with that, she flounced off. From the nearest table, there came a peal of cackling laughter.

The two blonde Throston twins sat next to each other. Týr, the brother, sulked in his seat while his sister laughed. Sitting beside her was Astrid, who was hunched over her notes and scribbling them out as fast as she could go.

Without invitation, Jack scooted into the empty seat next to Týr. "What's the joke, Randi?"

"I told you already, it's Ruffnut. And why do I need a reason to laugh at this idiot?"

"It's about that flying class incident from two weeks ago." Astrid said, without looking up. "Tuffnut was complaining about his face and now here we are."

"Oh, sure! Laugh at me, why don't you!" Tuffnut threw his hands up. "I wasn't even going to do anything to those things! My poor face had to suffer and I got detention for it, too! Or what? Was I simply supposed to know that some screaming banshee was going to drop out of the sky to reign terror upon the innocents?!"

"Innocent! Ha! Serves you right, meathead!" Ruffnut went into another laughing fit. In her flailing, her hand accidentally clipped her brother's shoulder, which he loudly protested. "Who was that Slytherin girl? I wanna thank her. Jack, did you see her?"

Jack put a hand to his chin in mock thought. "Last I remember, weren't we both hanging upside down from our brooms and making faces at each other?"

"Ohhh right. True, true that."

With a resounding smack, Astrid shut her notes-book. She gathered up a few of the ones near her and pushed them in Jack's direction. "There! That's History and Potions done. Thanks for letting me borrow them. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go."

"What's the rush for? Aren't you going to stay and comfort me?" Tuffnut asked pitifully, hand cradled against his shoulder.

"The nurse healed you in seconds, you're fine. And one of the seniors promised me if me and a friend got to the pitch before practice ends then she'd let us borrow a school broom. I'm already late and there is no way I'm missing that!"

Astrid unceremoniously shoved the rest of her books into a satchel and swung it onto her shoulder. Rushing to another table, she grabbed the hand of a brown-skinned girl with pigtails. "C'mon, Eloise. Let's go!"

The two disappeared out the door. After watching them go, Ruffnut leaned forward and plucked a stray crackling caramel square (the 'crackling' part attributed to the spicy bits of cinnamon-like flecks scattered throughout the sweet that gave a fizzling, warming effect) off of Astrid's end of the table.

She pointed with it to the stack of envelopes Jack had put down. "Weren't you going to send those?"

Jack sat back and crossed his arms. "Give it a minute," was all he said.

Time ticked by. After about fifteen minutes there came a tapping on the window. The tapping revealed itself to be an enormous bird about the size of Jack's arm. Strapped to it was a large bag that had been modified for birds to carry.

The bag thunked hollowly on the table as Jack gently set the creature down. Ruffling out its glossy feathers, it fixed the other two children with a sharp look. "I'd like to introduce you both to Persephone. A friend from home works in bird postal and I asked if he could send everyone's letters and things with this girl in one go. Persephone, these two are Ruffnut and Tuffnut."

From the bag he pulled out a handful of letters and two small wrapped parcels. As Jack set about preparing strips of dried meat and a dish of water, the twins openly gaped at the bird. It wasn't until a boy tapped on Jack's shoulder that anyone noticed he'd approached.

Jack glanced up and smiled. "Hi, Norman. Do you have your letter?"

"Yeah, it's right here … thanks, Jack." The boy mumbled, shuffling awkwardly.

Jack waved him off. "It's fine, it's fine. If you need anything else, just let me know."

Norman thanked him again and wandered off. The twins watched him go.

"… Since when are you running all these errands for people?" Tuffnut asked. He tried to sneak a caramel square from his sister only to get his hand smacked. His pout was ignored, so he slid under the table, likely in search of fallen sweets.

Jack shrugged. "I like helping others."

"But you're also keeping up with the classwork." Ruffnut pointed out.

"It's not hard, 's long as you don't let it build up."

"And you're _also_ always sneaking off to do … whatever it is you do."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Go to the library, you mean?" He busied himself securing the letters in the bag and studiously ignored Ruffnut's narrowed eyes at him.

"I'm on to you, bub. You're hiding something, I can smell it." She hissed.

"Oh, leave him alone – aha!" Tuffnut popped up with a sweet in hand, a bright purple toffee. He unwrapped it and tossed it in his mouth. "Maybe your nose is wrong and he's just off having fun instead of being a grumpy grump." He dodged the swing she aimed at him.

Once Persephone finished her snack, she hopped onto Jack's outstretched arm. She bumped her head to the side of his and he giggled, running a finger over her feathers as he went to the window. With a final parting chitter she flew away. He smiled, watching her go.

The smile felt more real than it had in a long time. There were a lot of things that were different about his life, but he still had friends to shoulder it with. He'd made friends in school, too, friends he could joke with and share with and spend his days with.

Yeah, he _was_ having fun.

* * *

**Cast List:**

**Sanjay Sharma: The Book of Life**

**Sasha Koshkin: The Book of Life**

**Ruffnut and Tuffnut: How to Train Your Dragon**

**Astrid: How to Train Your Dragon**

**Eloise: my OC**

**Persephone: my OC**

**Norman: Paranorman**

**A/N:**

**Shout out to anonymous commenter Eris whose review made me kick my butt into gear and finally finish editing this chapter.**

**Reply to elochin the lost: I see you and all the lovely comments you've left on my story, don't think I don't. Do you know how much they brighten my day? I don't know how many times I've scrolled through looking at them and reading them, but every time I do I feel this burst of joy that someone is so happy with something I'm writing. Really, they're so lovely and you're the absolute sweetest.**

**I'm glad that you could find something to relate to in Merida. I remember spending years of my life being such an angry little thing and it's freeing to be able to express that through her (and Rapunzel, but that'll come into play much, much later, in book 2). I'm also stoked that you're as worried about Merida and her emotional state as you are. Because you should be. (grin emoji)**

**For those of you who've left reviews on the other chapters, thank you all so much for them. They really mean a lot. I think I'm going to start replying to the reviews on the chapters I post from here on out.**

**As some of you may or may not know, I've recently gotten accepted into an . Enviro. program and this past week I've been busy with online classes. I've also started working on another project that I hope to finish by the end of November so I can start posting it in December. This story is once again going to take a bit of a back seat but not to worry! I'll still be whittling away at it whenever I can, and if all goes smoothly then there might hopefully be another update somewhere around the end of this month.**

**Stay safe and stay hydrated everyone!**


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